Final Fantasy IV The After Years: The Novel
by Celes Chere
Summary: 17 years after Final Fantasy IV, Ceodore Harvey departs Baron to earn his spot in the elite air force, the Red Wings. In the days that follow, the world falls to crisis, with a mysterious figure gathering the crystals once more and the ominous return of the second moon. This time, there may be no homecoming. A novelization based off of the iOS version of Final Fantasy IV TAY.
1. Act One: Ceodore's Tale

Final Fantasy IV The After Years: The Novel

Compilation & Additional Scenarios: Celes Chere

Original Characters/Story/Scenario: SquareEnix

* * *

 _Long ago the Blue Planet was saved by the prayers of an entire people._

 _Two moons became one anew, and time inexorably marched on..._

 _The day of departure has arrived for the heir of the holy paladin._

 _In the skies above the airship, two moons float up listlessly, one ominously growing ever larger._

 _Why has this dark harbinger returned?_

 _A new destiny has begun to unfold and yet, as always the crystals brim with silent light._

* * *

Act One: Ceodore's Tale | Awakening

It was the first day of his fifteenth summer, and Ceodore Harvey had never been more convinced that he was going to die.

His eyes glazed over as he wordlessly watched the blankets of white, fluffy clouds pass beneath the airship he was a passenger on – they were moving too fast for his eyes to keep up, so they just looked like a wind-whipped blur. Ceodore had no way of being sure, but they surely had to be at least five-thousand feet in the air. When there was a rare break in the clouds, he could see flashes of green and large pools of cerulean ocean – the same body of water that everyone he had ever met in his life compared his eyes to.

He was making himself sick, and yet he couldn't bring himself look away. If he lifted his head, he would have to face his commanding officer – or rather, the man who would become his commanding officer if he lived through the night. If he kept his eyes turned away, the other soldiers might leave him alone and not pick up through the shaking of his hands, which were currently clutching the rail of the ship and leaving behind stains of sweat, or hear in the trembling of his voice that he was in way over his head.

 _Why did I agree to do this again?_ Ceodore thought to himself, closing his eyes in an attempt to relieve some of his nausea. _To the outside world, it must look like a childish act of rebellion, does it not? Mother didn't want me to join the Red Wings, so here I am, defying her wishes._

He had to remind himself of the utter importance of his true objective: That if everything went the way he was anticipating, and if he actually _survived_ , an incredible weight would be lifted from his shoulders. _I will be able to prove that I can achieve something on my own…that I don't need to ride on the coattails of my parents, the legendary heroes who saved our world so long ago…_

 _I guess that's a rebellious act too, in itself – trying to pull myself out of the background of the illustrious Harvey family tapestry..._

"Captain Biggs! The Adamant Isle is in sight!" The soldier that had been piloting their ship, whose name Ceodore couldn't even pretend to remember, was yelling back at them. Ceodore heard Biggs reply in the affirmative, and footsteps pounding in his direction.

 _Oh gods…_ Ceodore swallowed a lump of acid-tinged sickness that burned his throat on the way down and made him want to gag. The last thing he needed to do was throw up on Captain Biggs' boots…he would probably be tossed overboard right then and there, although that would also be the end of this self-induced nightmare.

But it wasn't the captain that approached him. A gentler, but still familiar voice spoke as Ceodore felt a hand fall on the navy blue leather pauldron he had draped over his shoulders.

"You don't look well, Prince Ceodore."

Ceodore lowered his head, but relaxed slightly under the man's grip. It belonged to Wedge, a Second Lieutenant in the Red Wings and also Captain Biggs' cousin. "I can tell you're nervous about this. It is your first deployment, after all. Try talking with some of the other soldiers and take your mind off matters."

Ceodore opened his eyes slowly. It was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do, but he could feel Captain Biggs glaring at him from the peripheral of his vision, so he figured he had better take a lap around the deck, now that he had the Captain's attention again. His legs would have cramped from nerves anyway if he did not move sooner rather than later.

Wedge smiled with kind eyes from underneath his silver helmet, although it did not bring Ceodore much comfort. "Has the Captain told you where we are going yet?" Ceodore shook his head. He had no idea what exactly it was they were doing – everything had happened so fast.

* * *

Ceodore recalled the evening before, when he had sat down to dinner with his mother and father in their private quarters. His parents were talking as animatedly per usual, since their days were always filled with something to discuss.

Ceodore's day had started off uneventful – it had been his last day of compulsory schooling for the semester, so he had spent most of his day trapped inside the stifling-hot schoolhouse in Baron Village, pretending that the lecture they were being given on the mating habits of the Antlion had any meaning to him and making small talk with his fellow students that were curious what it was a prince did over the summer.

"Did you hear the Red Wings are looking for new recruits?" Ceodore had heard a boy named Tilton ask over lunch. Ceodore's ears perked up at that – the Red Wings hadn't recruited any new soldiers for several seasons, and certainly not since he had been old enough to consider joining. Peacetime was slow in the military world – any soldier would tell you that their training regimen was as fierce and grueling as always, but it went without saying that in peacetime, there was less need to recruit soldiers because, well…less of them died or became incapacitated.

Ceodore had always cultivated a fascination with the Red Wings from afar. They were Baron's elite air force, and undoubtedly the most well-known of Baron's military might throughout the world. As a child, his father had told him many stories about his time spent in the Red Wings, and Ceodore dreamed of joining their ranks too – but as he came of the age where such training would begin, he struggled with the idea of doing exactly what his father had done as a child. He realized that everyone in the castle court had just _expected_ that he would make the Red Wings' ranks because his father had – what if he failed due to his utterly unremarkable abilities as compared to his father? For a long time, Ceodore convinced himself that that was worse than not trying at all, and set his dream aside, drifting aimlessly into adolescence.

His saving grace had been his mother, who was very open about wanting Ceodore to never join – she didn't want to raise her only child to be an elite soldier. It was a comfortable excuse he could hide behind for not putting himself on the military track as a pre-teen like his father had been. He wasn't cowardly if he was being respectful of his mother's wishes, right?

His father, for his part, had been indifferent – he never pressured Ceodore to join, but Ceodore knew his father secretly wanted him to pursue some sort of military career – or at least start thinking about _something_ he wanted to do with his life to someday help him with his future role as King of Baron. It was a normal expectation one would have of the doubly genetically-blessed heir to the most powerful nation in the world, after all.

But as Ceodore grew into a young man, the more everyone in his life tried to convince him that he was so _special_ due to his heritage, the more Ceodore wanted to rebel and prove them wrong – desperately so. Suddenly, an opportunity had appeared to do just that. The trial to become a Red Wing didn't care _who_ you were – not even a king could bully his inept son's way into an organization as elite as they (not that Ceodore's father would have ever thought to do such a thing). Finally, Ceodore could prove that he could achieve something of his own due to _his_ strength – and not because he was some precious, untouchable legacy.

Ceodore's childhood dream had been revitalized by Tilton's offhand comment. He had immediately abandoned his lunch and ran to the castle, scrawling his name in the ledger that had been miraculously produced in the great hall and hurrying back to school before he could change his mind. His name had been the first to be written down. For the rest of the day, nothing had happened – his schoolmates had said good-bye to him for the summer, he went home, and showed up for dinner, all as was expected of him.

When his mother and father had finally paused long enough in their conversation to ask Ceodore how his day had gone, he dropped the bomb.

"I've declared my intent to try out for the Red Wings."

His mother looked as if she were about to faint – the blood had drained from her face, and if she had been holding a glass, it would have surely been shattered on the floor. His father discreetly reached under the table to rest his hand on her thigh, intending to be outwardly comforting, but Ceodore could see the excitement alit in his eyes.

Right on cue, there was a swift knock on their door. It wasn't unusual for them to get visitors at this hour – but Ceodore suddenly had the sinking feeling that this visitor was here for him, which was very unusual indeed. His mother, still astonished by Ceodore's news, couldn't bring herself to speak, but his father told the guest to come in.

Captain Biggs of the Red Wings himself appeared in the threshold, and clutched in his hand was the very declaration Ceodore had signed earlier that day.

"Prince Ceodore, is this a joke?" Biggs barked, spit flying cross the room. The man was never one to stand on ceremony – his using Ceodore's proper title was about as good as things were going to get. He had known Ceodore's parents far too long to bother flattering them by asking for forgiveness for interrupting, or anything silly like that.

"No, sir," Ceodore practically whispered. Thinking back on it, Ceodore realized he probably should have stood or made some sort of movement – but he had been glued to his chair in terror. Even under Biggs' golden helmet, he could see a vein throbbing on his temple.

Biggs crumpled the declaration into a ball, launching it at Ceodore's head. Ceodore didn't bother reaching up to catch it, letting it bounce against his platinum blonde hair, which was messily twisted into textured spikes, and fall to the floor.

"You're expecting me to waste my time on a recruit that has no military or combat experience whatsoever?" Biggs raised his eyebrows. Ceodore couldn't tell who he was talking to, so he remained silent. That apparently was the wrong response.

"Answer me, boy!"

"Er…yes…I mean, no," Ceodore blushed. "I will not waste your time, sir…I intend to prove my worth like any other candidate. I've some combat experience."

Biggs shook his head disgustedly, and turned to Ceodore's father. "Cecil…I won't treat him any differently from any of the other recruits. I can't be held responsible if I have to wash his blood from the Adamantite Grotto's walls."

Ceodore felt his interrupted dinner trying to come back up, and his mother's jaw dropped.

"I don't intend for you to treat him any differently," Cecil said calmly. "If this is what Ceodore wants, then Rosa and I will support him going through the same process as everyone else."

Rosa looked to Cecil, and started to speak, but Biggs interrupted her.

"Very well, as long as we are all clear. Ceodore, I expect you at the castle gates at noon tomorrow. Bring your own weapon. The rest of your provisions will be provided to you. If you are even a second late, I will ban you from ever attempting to join again."

"Yes, sir," Ceodore said, a little firmer this time. Biggs rolled his eyes and stomped out, slamming the door behind them and making the cutlery on the table rattle.

Cecil had then advised that Ceodore go elsewhere so that he and Rosa could talk. Ceodore slunk out of their quarters, his dinner half-eaten, and could hear the yelling start before he had even closed the door behind him. Later that night, when he had slipped back inside to go to bed, Rosa had risen from where she was sitting at her dressing table, brushing her silky hair that spilled over her shoulders like spun gold, and embraced her son tightly. She realized with a start that he was now nearly tall enough that his head nestled perfectly underneath her chin. One more growth spurt and he would surely be taller than her, like his father.

Ceodore hugged her back wordlessly, closing his eyes and fighting back the tears that had begun to form behind his lids. Rosa stroked his hair back and leaned in to kiss his forehead, whispering against her son's skin.

"I know a time comes in every man's life when he hears the first callings of destiny," Rosa said. "I'll support you no matter what you choose to do, my darling. Always remember that your life is yours to live, and no one else's."

Ceodore bit his lip, trying not to cry out – conflicted emotions were raging inside his heart.

 _Destiny? I'm just trying to escape from beneath yours and father's shadow…And I don't know any other way to do it…No one recognizes me as just "Ceodore"…and it's yours and father's fault! How can you say my life is mine to live when it hasn't been since the day I was born?_

* * *

Wedge was still talking, interrupting Ceodore's reverie. "We are currently on our way to the Adamant Isle, a very small landmass in the middle of the ocean. It is the staging ground for your initiation trial in becoming a knight, my lord. It goes without saying, of course, how overjoyed your father Cecil is to see you finally taking on this task."

Ceodore looked away. _Yes, it could have gone without saying._ For the first time in his recent memory, it had been Cecil to rouse Ceodore that morning, and not Rosa, excitedly gifting Ceodore with the newly-oiled armor set he had had immediately commissioned from the armory, and Cecil's very own broadsword from when he had been a cadet, prior to training with the dark sword. The happiness in Cecil's eyes was so apparent to Ceodore that his face burned in shame as he accepted his father's gifts. His father didn't realize that Ceodore was doing this to try to distance himself from his family, not to follow in Cecil's footsteps.

One of three remaining Red Wing soldiers that had accompanied them, who had overheard their conversation, tried to cheer Ceodore up too. "Your father, King Cecil, achieved knighthood by passing this trial himself. Did you know that he actually served as captain of the Red Wings before becoming king?"

 _Of course I know that!_ Ceodore wanted to scream. _It's not like I'm not reminded every single day!_ But instead, he just nodded thoughtfully, and walked away.

Ceodore approached a second soldier, who was leaning over the railing as they started to make their descent. He pointed to the island that was slowly emerging through the clouds, and Ceodore drew his breath and pressed in to get a better look. From this far away, it looked so tiny – nothing like the massive continent Baron stood on. Would their airship even fit? "The Adamant Isle looks peaceful enough at first glance, I'll give you that. There's a grotto there, though...a holy land, of sorts. All knight trainees will visit there once."

Biggs, who had snuck up behind Ceodore and made him nearly tumble over the railing with his booming voice, snorted. "Monsters don't play favorites. Royalty or peasants - they aren't picky about their prey. It's just as true for us Red Wings, too, I suppose. You may be the crown prince of Baron, but it means nothing here on this ship."

Ceodore looked up at Biggs, but chose to say nothing in return. In a way, he had supposed that kind of attitude was how he had wanted to be treated – but it still stung his ego a little more than he cared to admit, and he was becoming even more nervous about what he had signed himself up for. He hadn't lied when he said he had combat experience – the problem was that it had been with monsters local to Baron, which were known to be pushovers compared to some other locales of the world thanks to his father's military paring down their populations. Ceodore had never actually left his own kingdom before, so he had no experience with the outside world, so-to-speak. He reluctantly left his spot where he could better view the approaching island and slipped back over to Wedge.

Wedge nodded toward him. "How are you feeling now, my lord? Better?"

 _Horrible._

But Ceodore kept his true thoughts to himself, again. "...Yes."

Wedge, either naïve enough to take the progressively paling boy at his word or choosing to ignore the underlying sarcasm in Ceodore's response, shook his head. "I can certainly understand what you're going through, my lord...But considering your bloodline, there's nothing for you to be worried about."

Ceodore bit his lip. _No…this shouldn't be coming up here!_ "…My bloodline?"

Wedge nodded, ignoring the distress in Ceodore's eyes. "Yes, my lord. You have inherited the blood of two great heroes, after all: King Cecil the paladin and Queen Rosa the white mage."

Ceodore turned away, trying to take control of his utter despair – no one on this ship seemed to care about the _person_ in front of them – just about his incredible luck in the DNA lottery. Not that it had done him any good anyway – sure, he knew some white magic, but was hardly above average when it came to the students of the castle his mother taught that were his age. And yes, he was trained in weaponry thanks to his father, but it was a joke to think he was anywhere near close to the class of a holy knight. The only advantage he had over his father was he knew far more white magic than Cecil had at his age – Cecil had told him he couldn't even cast a spell until he was twenty. Ceodore could hear his voice quivering pathetically as he bleated his response.

"That doesn't mean _anything_! I am just another soldier being tested for knighthood."

Unfortunately Biggs had heard him whining, and whirled around to face Ceodore, who didn't dare look away from him, despite the knocking in his knees. "Don't kid yourself, boy! You're no soldier yet. You're _nothing_ but a squire. The Red Wings isn't the playground it was back in King Cecil's day."

Ceodore met Biggs's gaze defiantly. _It was your day too, Captain Biggs!_ "I _know_ that. That's why I'm here today to..."

But Biggs didn't let him finish. He reared back his hand, and before Ceodore could even mentally brace himself for what was to come, smacked Ceodore across the face so hard that the boy was knocked to the floor. Ceodore resisted crying out, instead clenching his jaw and hitting the deck of the airship with a violent "thump". He hesitatingly reached up, his shoulder aching from the fall, already able to feel some swelling where a welt was surely forming on his cheek – but Biggs had not broken the skin.

Wedge gasped. "P-Prince Ceodore!" He reached down to help him up, but Ceodore refused his aid, pushing himself up with one hand while clutching his swelling face with the other. His long, cape-like red and white striped scarf had come undone, dangling limply from his shoulder. He tried to fight back the tears as he pictured how his mother had lovingly wrapped it around him this morning, smoothing it over his chest plate and fanning it down his back as he guiltily recalled the silent curses he had laid upon her the night before.

 _"So you don't get cold tonight, dear."_

Biggs waved his finger. "You've got a lot to learn, boy. Starting with how to keep that mouth of yours shut. Hopefully, that does it for you for at least a little while." Ceodore reached up to re-tie his scarf, saying nothing, but feeling the impudence burn in his eyes. At least he was in too much pain now to be scared.

The soldier who had been piloting them called back once more. "Ready to touch down on the Adamant Isle, Captain!"

Biggs turned away from Ceodore, as if nothing had happened. "Good. All hands, landing stations!"

The ship's approaching rotors made the tiny clusters of forest next to the village they were landing by stir restlessly in the wind, the leaves tossing and rustling about in their own self-contained windstorm. From where he was standing, Ceodore could see some of the villagers looking up at the disturbance, but then going back about their own business like there was nothing unusual about a foreign military airship touching down in your backyard. He was shocked to observe that what little he had learned about this region in school was true – the villagers all consisted of anthropomorphized pigs, toads and then also small people – supposedly the founder of the village had been cursed as a pig by a witch and liked it so much that he founded a sanctuary village for others who wanted to abandon the normal human lifestyle. To the east of the village, not a long walk, there was a cavern that rested near the shore.

The ship landed at last, and the pilot rolled out the ramp that would allow them to safely debark with a loud clatter.

Biggs looked over his shoulder at Ceodore. "Here's our stop, Ceodore. The Adamant Isle. You are report to the village of Mythril up ahead and await further orders. Got it?"

Ceodore nodded. "Yes, sir..."

Biggs growled. "Can't hear you! Say it like you mean it, boy!"

Ceodore stood up straighter, trying not to flinch at the pain that shot down his shoulder. "Yes, sir! Understood, sir!"

Biggs turned away, marching down the ramp and muttering. "Hmph. As sorry as ever before. Now move out!"

Ceodore watched as Wedge and the other soldiers save one followed Biggs off the ship and toward Mythril's village gates. The remaining soldier was furling the sails and gave Ceodore a small smile of pity before getting back to his work. Ceodore sighed and descended the ramp, telling himself he just had to get through these next twelve hours, and that all of this would be behind him.

Biggs and Wedge were waiting for him near the village entrance, having staked out a spot in front of the inn. Ceodore assumed the rest of the soldiers had already gone inside. When Ceodore approached Biggs, he offered him a salute, which just made Biggs roll his eyes.

"Your mission in this trial is to obtain the Knight's Emblem housed deep inside the Adamant Isle Grotto. There is one requirement, boy! You can't enter the grotto until the moon is at its fullest. You'd best get yourself ready before then, mentally and physically."

Ceodore crossed his arms over his chest. "Is there any reason why I have to wait for the full moon, sir?" He had known that the trial would be conducted at night – his father had told him that much before Ceodore departed – but that was the extent of it.

Ceodore could see Biggs' lips curl into a smirk, which looked all the more evil with his closely-trimmed ducktail beard. "Hah! So you don't know about that either? This is gonna be a long day, I'll tell you that."

Wedge cleared his throat. "The light from the moon casts its effects upon all creatures of our blue planet. No monsters can escape from its influence, and neither can you, Prince Ceodore. Black magic, white magic, even physical attacks are all affected by the phase of the moon. But remember this! The moon cycles between phases with the passage of time, my lord. You will need to adjust your battle tactics with the current phase to survive out on the field."

"What happens during a full moon?" Ceodore asked warily. Wedge smiled.

"Black magic becomes stronger, but melee attacks are half as powerful. White magic is unaffected."

Ceodore could feel his heart dropping into his stomach. "So our swords become a liability during a full moon?"

Wedge shook his head. "Not necessarily. Our attack power is halved, but that applies to the monsters as well. What's more, my lord, you are gifted with white magic from Queen Rosa...If your tactics match the current moon phase, then you will never be at a true disadvantage in battle."

 _What advantage could come from only being half as effective with my sword? It's not like I know any offensive white magic to make up for it! And if there is a monster in the grotto that uses black magic…I'm dead!_

Biggs said nothing, watching Ceodore's face closely. Ceodore figured he must be doing better with controlling his emoting, because another slap didn't come.

"Perhaps you should tour the village a bit and then take a rest until the full moon arrives," Wedge offered gently. "It's always a good idea to get intel about new places you visit. You might learn something of use for your mission."

"Yes sir," Ceodore nodded, taking the hint. He walked away, approaching a pig that he saw tending to a garden up the main village path. The pig looked up at him, smiling. Ceodore inwardly cringed at the incisors jutting out of his mouth.

"Are you here to take the trial to become a knight?" the pig asked. Ceodore nodded.

"Yes…what is the grotto like where the trial takes place? Have you ever been?"

"Not for years and years. You know, back in the day, the grotto wasn't even on this island – it was isolated, and you could only reach it by hovercraft. Small people lived there, and would harvest for mythril ore. That's how our village got its name, you know."

"What happened?"

"Well, some say it was the influence of our second moon leaving orbit that changed the tides and the topography of the land. That would have been before you were born – our planet used to have two moons, and one of them disappeared after three heroes from Baron, one from Mist, and one from Eblan defeated a dark lord who lived there that was trying to raze our planet. Oh, of course, you must be from Baron if you are taking the trial – so you probably know that part!"

"I know of King Cecil, Queen Rosa, and the Dragoon, Kain Highwind," Ceodore said dryly. The pig paid no mind to Ceodore's sudden ire.

"Ah, yes, well back in their day, the grotto was admittedly less complex than it is now. It was only a few years ago that part of it collapsed in on itself, revealing caverns that had been previously not explored. They think it was a monster that caused the collapse. So you lucky knights-to-be have more ground to cover than your predecessors. I think it's about four levels deep now."

"Thank you for the information," Ceodore nodded, and turned to walk away.

"Good luck!" the pig exclaimed. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Ceodore had already had enough talking. He marched past Biggs and Wedge, going into the inn and letting the door slam behind him. In one corner, he could see the other soldiers, laughing over their mead and totally ignoring him. In another corner, two small people and a toad were playing cards, and they greeted Ceodore as he stepped inside.

"Another future knight is among us, men!" the toad exclaimed, and the small people cheered, clinking their thimble-sized glasses. Ceodore felt a flush crawl up his face. One of the small people waved excitedly to him.

"I say, a man with eyes just like yours took this very trial too!" he exclaimed. "It was a long time ago, though…well over twenty years, I'd say. But those were eyes you never forgot – very striking and haunting. I bet you're related!"

"Most likely not," Ceodore said softly, and turned away. The less people that knew who he was, the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He walked into the inn's bedchamber, which had been completely rented out to the Red Wings for the night, and took the bed in the furthest corner of the room. Hanging next to it was a faded, tarnished mirror, with a small crack running up the side. Ceodore kneeled on the bed, staring hopelessly at the reflection before him.

He saw a pale, frightened child with a crooked silver and bejeweled headband that had probably been knocked askew when Biggs laid him flat on the ship. His right cheek was aflame with redness and swelling, and upon closer inspection, he could see that his lips – the same bow shape he had inherited from his mother – had taken some of the blow too, and were slightly puffy. Sapphire studs twinkled in his ears, and his eyes – or rather, Cecil's eyes – were tinged pink from trying not to cry. His hair was hanging limply from the humid summer morning – Ceodore had not received his platinum locks from either of his parents. Cecil's hair had always been silver-white, even as a young man, and Rosa's a shining gold. Cecil was sure that Ceodore had gotten his hair from a relative on his side – but Ceodore didn't know any of his father's family. He was under the impression they were all dead or lost in some other capacity, and that his only living relative was Rosa's mother, who lived in Baron Village and thought the sun rose and set on her only grandson.

 _I wonder what my father saw in this mirror while awaiting his trial_ , Ceodore thought sadly. _He was probably excited, eager to start living his dream. It would only be a few years later that he would be propelled to Captain and become the then King Baron's right-hand man. His potential was limitless – he grew up in no shadows of greater men, and was able to blaze his own trail. He had his two best friends – the most powerful white mage in Baron and the heir to the dragoon legacy – by his side through it all. He wasn't burdened with the knowledge that he was half-Lunarian when he took his trial – he thought he was as normal as anyone else._

 _But I…I am only my parents' son – the result of a union between a half-breed and one of the most powerful mages in the world. The path has already been laid before me, and all that's expected of me is to fill my parents' shoes and walk it. I've never had a best friend to help carry the burden, let alone two – nobody thinks a prince wants someone around him that tells him how things really are. Even in the Red Wings, where my legacy should not matter, my bloodline is already being cited as the reason I will persevere – although at least Biggs seems to think I will fail spectacularly._

 _I realize now that my plan was foolish – if I pass the trial, people will still think it was only because of my parents. If I fail, it will become the failure of the castle court as well – their hopes in the heir of the paladin will have been sorely misplaced. I honestly don't think there is a difference, at this point._

Ceodore dropped his head to the hard, lumpy pillow, and squeezed his eyes shut, not even attempting to shed his armor and sleep in his black leggings and tunic to get more comfortable. In his haste to fall asleep, he forgot to ask the innkeeper to rouse him for tonight's mission.

* * *

A sudden noise outside caused Ceodore to shoot up in bed, panting for breath. He had been having a nightmare – of what, he could no longer say, as it had already faded from memory – but the first thing he noticed upon waking was that the room was pitch-black, and that the light of the full moon was shining over him through the window of the bedchamber.

 _No!_ Ceodore gasped, and leapt out of bed, storming through the inn and bursting outside. A soldier had been waiting for him, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Captain Biggs is waiting for you at the grotto. Please hurry."

The village streets were empty at this hour and the windows of the few homes and businesses dark – Ceodore was alone as he tore through the village gates and began to sprint across the beach toward the grotto, which had torchlight pouring out of the entrance. His feet, clad in his sabatons, sank in the sand as he ran, slowing him down considerably. Without thinking, Ceodore swiftly reached down, kicking the armored plates off his boots, and gained a slight burst of speed.

When he finally made it to the grotto, he was about to collapse from being so out of breath. Still, he kept himself standing as Biggs raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "Late even to your own mission? Man, what a worthless squire they stuck me with. We're about to begin our journey into the Adamant Isle Grotto. Not to repeat myself, but your orders are to obtain the Knight's Emblem. If you want to cut and run like the spoiled prince you are, now's the time."

Ceodore clenched his jaw, gasping for breath and resisting the urge to fire back a retort that would just get him dashed across the piles of rubble that surrounded him. Biggs laughed and pretended to flick a tear away from his eye. "Oh, did that hurt, boy? Well, quit pouting and go get your provisions from these chests!" He pointed on the raised platform behind him, which contained not only the tunnel that would take him deeper into the grotto, but four small chests that Ceodore had seen carried onto the ship earlier.

Ceodore wordlessly pushed past him, extracting one potion, one phoenix down, one ether, and one tightly-rolled up sleeping bag from each chest. He felt the blood drain from his face as he eyed the sleeping bag – this mission would surely not be keeping him here overnight, right?

One of the soldiers who was standing before him smiled. "I can already see you becoming a valiant soldier like your father, Prince Ceodore!"

Ceodore tried to smile back, tucking his meager provisions in the sleeping bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

Wedge, who had been standing next to Biggs, gestured toward the tunnel entrance. "Prince Ceodore! May you have the best luck in battle! We'll escort you down." Ceodore straightened his spine, trying to give the impression that an escort was wholly unnecessary, even though his senses had flooded with an overwhelming relief.

Biggs smirked. "Finally found some resolve in you, huh, boy? Get on with it, then!"

Ceodore began to descend the slippery stairs that had been hastily carved in the tunnel, very grateful now that he was just treading with his combat boots. Had he been wearing his foot armor, he would have probably fallen down the stairs by now and broken his neck.

When he reached the first level of the cavern, he found himself surrounded by rust-colored sandstone and white-streaked calcium deposits that ran up and down the rocky walls. Various mining tools were strewn about, abandoned for the night. Countless niches were dug into the walls, some of them massive, and others just getting started. Ceodore could already spot another tunnel several feet away, and from it came the sound of dripping water.

The cavern did not smell as stale as he had been anticipating – there was a hint of salt from the ocean he was probably now under, and a sweet earthy scent that reminded him a little bit of Baron after a rainy day. He was shocked at how comforted that had made him suddenly feel. There was no natural light anywhere to be seen, but the cavern walls were lit with rows of torches that had been mounted.

Biggs and Wedge came down the stairs behind him, and Ceodore took that as a clue to keep moving toward the next tunnel. As he crossed the rock-strewn cavern floor, there came a wicked giggle, and a trio of Goblins appeared from behind a turned-over trolley, brandishing rusted hunting knives. They were ugly little humanoid creatures that were about three feet tall each, with wart-ridden skin and nasty, dirt covered claw-like fingernails. Ceodore gasped and stopped in place, reaching for his sword.

Biggs barked out a laugh, withdrawing his gleaming long sword. "Hee hee! Here we go, Ceodore! This is the only lesson you're getting from us. You can sit this one out." Ceodore hesitated, but left his sword in his scabbard and turned toward Biggs and Wedge, while keeping a wary eye on the rapidly-approaching monsters.

Wedge, who had also withdrawn his weapon, took his position next to Biggs. "I'll tell you about a combat technique the Red Wings use called Band moves. A Band is a type of powerful multi-person technique. You cannot perform a Band with someone unless you have some kind of bond with that person. Banding is a technique that has its roots in magic – mages used to call it Twincasting."

Ceodore widened his eyes. "A _bond_?"

Wedge nodded. "Yes, my lord. Allow myself and Captain Biggs to demonstrate. First, you must choose who you want to Band with. Your partner, or partners, must all be in sync and of the same mindset for this to work – hence the need for a deep bond. You must all also have the sufficient magical stamina as well – it's the same as a mage not having enough energy to cast a powerful spell – it won't execute if even one person is too weak. For this demonstration, Captain Biggs is my partner, and we will execute a band we've christened the Vibra Edge. Are you ready? Watch!"

Wedge and Biggs stood back-to-back, both of their swords raised in their hands. A fearsome blue aura began to envelope them, and they suddenly dashed forward, their blades making the shape of an "X" as they plowed through the trio of Goblins with perfect harmony. When Ceodore blinked, the Goblins had all collapsed to the ground, bursting into cloud of glittering gray dust, and Biggs and Wedge had already returned to his side.

Biggs sheathed his sword. "What, boy? Was it too fast for you to see?"

Ceodore blinked and shook his head. He had managed to see enough.

Biggs nodded toward the now-clear tunnel to the next chamber. "Okay, Ceodore, it's all yours from here." Ceodore turned his stare toward the tunnel, and felt the shaking come back to his hands with a vengeance.

Wedge patted Ceodore's back. "Don't worry, Prince Ceodore. Remember, you have the blood of King Cecil and..."

Ceodore clenched his fists, feeling like a burst of hot air was about to explode from his chest. _How many times did he need to be told that he alone was not good enough, that it was only his family that made him worth any value?_ "That has _NOTHING_ to do with it!"

His voice echoed across the chamber, and Ceodore froze, realizing he had just raised his voice to an officer of the Red Wings. He was terrified to look at either of their faces, and glued his eyes to the floor. Wedge's jaw dropped.

"Prince Ceodore!?"

But Biggs merely laughed, giving Ceodore a slap on his back that was so hard, he nearly stumbled to his knees. "Looks like you're got at least half a backbone in you. Get back here alive, or forget about making the Red Wings."

Ceodore looked over his shoulder at Biggs, and thought he saw the tiniest hint of a smile. He straightened himself once more, and nodded. "Yes, sir!" With that, he ran toward the tunnel, and was absorbed into the darkness. Biggs and Wedge looked at each other.

"I'm sure you can do it, Prince Ceodore," Wedge said softly in the direction of the tunnel in which the prince had disappeared. "I was just trying to be encouraging…"

"I think you managed to light a fire under his sorry arse," Biggs said. "I'm starting to figure out what makes our little prince tick. At first, I didn't think he wanted to really be here…but now I think I understand what is going on."

"What do you mean?" Wedge asked. But Biggs didn't reply.

* * *

Ceodore had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but he was sure it had to have been hours. It felt like every few steps, he was attacked by monsters in the cave that were angry he had disrupted their slumber – more packs of Goblins that he had to pick off one at a time, disgusting purple Larva that would drop from the ceiling and crawl on the back of his neck and attempt to sap his energy by plunging their suckers into his skin, and horrid creatures called Sword Rats, which were overgrown cave rats that developed painful spikes that they would shoot at Ceodore without warning, and then scamper away. Ceodore made several stops to dislodge the spikes out of his armor, praying that none of them were tipped with poison. He didn't know a spell that cured poison yet – and he had no provisions that would help him.

The deeper he got in the cavern, the more the scenery changed. The path remained mercifully straightforward, and torches were still lit for him, but he had gone from cozy passageways still filled with miners' tools and evidence that non-monster life occupied the cavern for at least part of the day, to wide, open chambers filled with drifting fog that rolled up from pits that Ceodore was not sure actually bottomed out anywhere. He cringed every time he had to cross a trestle bridge, wondering just how sturdy it really was and finding it very unsettling that he was not able to see what laid at the bottom should he be knocked over.

Utterly exhausted from all of his battles and having to be on constant alert, Ceodore finally made it to a safe room to rest. It was just a small chamber, but he could sit with his back to the wall and keep an eye on the only entrance in case any monsters decided to pay him a visit. Unfurling his sleeping bag, he popped the cork out of his one potion and took a long, thirsty swig, draining it in mere seconds. He then placed the empty glass bottle in the dead center of the entryway so that he would hear it clatter if a monster came barreling in. Settling against the back wall of the chamber, Ceodore slid down to a sitting position and kept his two remaining cure items by his side. Using the sleeping bag as a blanket, he burrowed deeper into his scarf, realizing it still smelled like his mother's perfume, and let himself nod off to sleep.

 _"Mother!"_

A five-year old Ceodore was running up the stairs to his family's tower in the castle, bawling his eyes out. Before he could even reach the threshold to their quarters, Rosa had opened the door and kneeled down, opening her arms to catch him.

"What's wrong, dearest?"

Ceodore threw himself into her arms and buried his head in her chest, wailing.

"Mother, I don't like going to school in the village! Can't I stay here in the castle with you?"

Rosa smiled bemusedly and stroked back his hair, kissing away his tears.

"Now, why would you want to do that, Ceodore? You were excited about meeting other children, remember? Getting to play with other kids your age?"

"The other kids are mean!" Ceodore sniffled. "They said I'm a snot because I'm a prince! And…they made fun of my name! They said it was just a stupid, made-up name. I don't have another name, so what am I supposed to do?"

Rosa sighed and sat back, cradling her son in her lap. She thought back to when she had been Ceodore's age and had first met Cecil – Kain had been picking a fight with him that sounded all too similar to what Ceodore was going through now. Yes, she knew that children could be terribly cruel, and the reasons for it weren't always simple.

"Ceodore…stop crying and listen to me for a minute."

Ceodore frowned and looked up into his mother's eyes.

"First of all, my love…you should be proud that you are a prince. It is not something every person in the world gets to be, and it comes with a lot of responsibilities and opportunities to make our world a better place. It is also something you can never change about yourself, nor should it be something that you ever let change you. You will always be Ceodore first, and a prince second – all right? Your true friends will understand that."

Ceodore nodded, although he didn't quite comprehend what it was she was saying. But it sounded as if that maybe he wasn't a snot after all, since his mother hadn't said so.

"As for your name…" Rosa hugged him close. "…Your name is _very_ special – because you were named after two people your father loved very much, but never got to meet. He named you for his mother, Cecilia, and his older brother, Theodor. When he looks at you, he's filled with not only love for you, but he's reminded of the two people who helped him become the man he is today. _Every_ name is made up when it is first created, Ceodore. And it just so happens that yours has a special meaning to our family."

"But…" Ceodore wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "How can you love someone you've never met?"

"Your heart works in mysterious ways," Rosa smiled. "I loved you before you were even born, and so did your father. You'll understand better when you are older and love someone too."

"Well, I love you and Father now," Ceodore grinned, and Rosa squealed, hugging him tighter.

"That's the sweet boy I know!" Rosa kissed his forehead. "Oh, the gods really blessed us the day you came into our lives, Ceodore. I hope you always remember that."

* * *

"Mmmm…"

Ceodore slowly opened his eyes, thinking he heard footfalls. But his empty potion bottle was still in place, and there were no shadows flickering in the tunnel before him. He let out a yawn, reaching up high to stretch his tired arms, and was relieved to find that his shoulder no longer ached from his fall on the airship. The potion must have done the trick.

"What a weird dream…" Ceodore muttered to himself as he started gathering his supplies. "I wonder why I thought about an old memory like that tonight…"

He glanced back at where he slept one last time to make sure he hadn't left anything, and proceeded to make his way back through the tunnels. It was only a few moments later that he encountered a dead-end in the rock wall, with a small, person-sized hole crudely dug out a few feet to his left.

Ceodore shrugged and got on his hands and knees, forcing his way through and grimacing as his hands crushed clusters of slimy Larva as he progressed. Whenever he ran over a particularly juicy one, he would hear a loud popping noise and feel the juice seep through his gloves, which made him gag. Finally reaching another open chamber, Ceodore climbed to his full height and wiped his gloves off on his armor, taking a look around.

He found himself standing before a dug out, raised platform flanked by some stone steps and surrounded by several tall stone columns, each containing a lit torch. In the center of the platform, a lone chest sat – and Ceodore was almost positive that his prize was inside.

"The Knight's Emblem!" He breathed, and ran up to the chest, eagerly loosening the clasps. He didn't notice the cold shadow that had draped over his form until it was too late – and a massive creature slammed into him, sending him flying back down the stairs.

"Ahhhh!" Ceodore cried, rolling over in the dust and rocks and coughing violently. "What the…?"

"Grrrrrrrrrrr!"

A shadow slithered between the stone columns, and raised itself before the chest, revealing a massive yellow and pink Sandworm that was as tall as several fully-grown men, and was several yards thick of quivering muscle. Antennae with beady, black eyes poked out of the top of its head, and a massive mouth hole surrounded with a circumference of spiky teeth oozed drool that splashed all over the chest.

"Hmmph!" Ceodore snorted, pulling himself up and drawing his broadsword. "A sneak attack – very cowardly!" He dashed forward, raising his blade high in the air and sending it crashing down on the Sandworm's tail, which was lined with pink spikes and looked like it would hurt big time if the worm got around to swinging it at Ceodore. The Sandworm writhed in pain and gnashed its teeth, a whistling sound tearing above Ceodore's head as it sucked in air through its mouth hole. Ceodore hacked at the tail again, finally getting a clean cut, and watching as it wriggled on its own, detached from its body, for several seconds before disintegrating into a pile of dust.

Ceodore turned to strike his next target – wondering if he could possibly pinpoint where the beast's heart cavity might be – when the Sandworm began to violently twist in blinding circles, exhaling all of the air it had sucked in. The result was a vicious whirlwind that gathered all of the dust and debris in the immediate area, blinding Ceodore as it took a life of its own and crashed over him. Ceodore closed his eyes and screamed out, trying to protect his head as slabs of stone and broken rocks beat him mercilessly from all angles. When the whirlwind died and released Ceodore, he collapsed on the stairs, bloodied and covered in filth.

"Ugh…" Ceodore moaned, trying to call upon the strength needed for a Cure spell – but he didn't even have the power to finish the incantation before a wave of nausea threatened to take him out.

"Ceodore! Are you hurt!?"

There came pounding footsteps, and two people flanked him on either side. Ceodore could barely make them out as Wedge and Biggs – if he wasn't imagining them, that is.

Ceodore shook his head slowly, trying to lift himself from the ground. "Stay back...please!"

Biggs gawked at Ceodore, who was in no form to be making any kind of demands. Wedge slowly lifted his hands away from Ceodore, and the prince pulled himself first up to his knees, and then staggered to his feet, swaying slightly. Trails of blood were dripping down from his forehead and hair, and a black eye had formed from where he had been struck in the face by some debris.

Ceodore looked back at Biggs and Wedge. "This is...this is my battle to fight!"

Wedge threw up his arms in protest. "You don't have to push yourself so hard! Let us help!"

Ceodore shook his head, reaching again for his sword. His heart was racing so fast, he thought it was about to burst. "My father...and my mother...have nothing to do with this...I...I...I'll get through this... _by myself_!"

Ceodore closed his eyes, lifting his sword in the air. He didn't comprehend what his body was doing – he had lost control. He felt a warm, comforting wind wrap around him, like the tender embrace he had experienced in his dream. As the warmth traveled through his body, he could feel his strength not only returning – but multiplying, one-hundred fold. His wounds closing and his bruises healing, Ceodore's eyes snapped open, a clear blue shining with dazzling light.

Biggs and Wedge were watching, stunned, at the transformation happening before them. It had been as if a hole had opened in the ceiling of the cavern, bathing Ceodore in the full moon's light – he was shining that brightly. His platinum hair had turned a soft, light blue hue, and as he lunged forward, gliding through the air effortlessly, the gleam of his blade nearly blinded them as Ceodore thrust it into the Sandworm's abdomen, striking the critical mark.

The Sandworm let out a pathetic bellow that gradually softened into an echo as it began to shrink into itself, fluids pouring out of the hole Ceodore had opened with his blade once he withdrew. Just as its antennae begin to droop, the remainder of the monster's carcass exploded into dust. Ceodore delicately bent down, releasing the clasp of the chest and grasping hold of the Knight's Emblem. He turned to face Wedge and Biggs, holding it up triumphantly…

…And then promptly collapsed to the ground, the light formerly surrounding him dissipating into stardust.


	2. Act Two: Cecil's Tale

Act Two: Cecil's Tale | The Premonition

"Prince Ceodore!" Wedge gasped and knelt down next to the fallen boy, turning him over onto his back so he could get some air. His hair had faded back to its usual color, and his face remained clear of injuries, but his breathing was shallow and haggard.

Biggs frowned. He wasn't quite to the point of panicking – it took _a lot_ to get him to that point – but a passed out heir to Baron was quickly getting him there. He hadn't been _entirely_ serious about the whole "cleaning his blood off the walls" comment. "Wedge! Quickly!"

Wedge closed his eyes in concentration, pressing a hand upon Ceodore's chest. "Cura!"

A shining white light sparkled over Ceodore's still body. A few moments later, the prince stirred and opened his eyes, peering at an upside down Biggs and Wedge. Ceodore blinked, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. It still smarted a little from when he had fallen.

"Thank you very much. Sorry about that."

Even in a time of crisis, Ceodore's royal etiquette would manifest itself nonchalantly.

Wedge clapped his hands together, now that the potential catastrophe had passed. "I knew you could do it, Prince Ceodore! You have amazing powers hidden inside you!"

Ceodore climbed to his feet, looking at the Knight's Emblem that was still grasped tightly in his hand. He wasn't sure if it was because he was still coming around, but he had no blasted idea what the thing was that he was clinging to for dear life. It felt like a piece of rope, but he hadn't remembered actually picking it up. He recalled Biggs and Wedge coming into the chamber, and then the extenuating effort it had taken for him to drag himself up off the ground to finish the Sandworm, but his memory got fuzzy after that. He had felt warm and safe – like someone had wrapped him in a blanket and sat him down before a fire – and then it was like that same someone had turned out the lights and plunged him into darkness.

Wedge nodded toward the Knight's Emblem. "Now you're a full-fledged knight, my lord!"

 _I'm a knight…_ Ceodore blinked. _I can't believe it…I really did it. And all on my own…_

Biggs interrupted the impromptu celebration. "We're leaving. Our work here is done."

The three men silently returned to the surface level of the grotto. Ceodore had automatically defaulted to walking behind Biggs and Wedge, his head down as he replayed what he could remember of the final battle in his head over and over again, his excitement growing with each step he took.

When they finally arrived back on the shore at the grotto's entryway, Ceodore was shocked to see that dawn's rays were pouring over them – he could see the polished cherry wood of the Red Wings fleet glowing like fire against the backdrop of the horizon. _So, I really was in there all night._

Ceodore paused a moment, pressing his hands together. "Um...Wedge? Captain Biggs?"

Biggs and Wedge whirled around. Wedge was smiling, but Biggs looked bored.

"Thank you...Thank you for everything!"

Biggs huffed and turned around, walking ahead without another word.

Ceodore looked down. "Captain Biggs..."

Wedge patted Ceodore on the back. "I expected nothing less from you, Prince Ceodore."

Ceodore peered up at Wedge, reminded of his shameful outburst from before. "Uh…listen…" But Wedge knew what Ceodore was trying to do, and shook his head.

"We must hurry to the airship. We'll get an earful if we're late again."

Ceodore and Wedge walked back to the airship, and as they got closer, Ceodore could see that the rest of their men were onboard, preparing for takeoff. As Ceodore climbed the ramp, the other soldiers let out a cheer, making him blush. Biggs must have told them that the trial had been a success.

"Congratulations, Prince Ceodore! Are you ready to return to Baron Castle?" the soldier at the steering wheel called out to him.

"So ready," Ceodore grinned. "I can't wait to see the look on the king and queen's face when I tell them!" The soldier laughed, and Ceodore could hear the engines starting. He couldn't believe how light and happy he felt – how could he have possibly thought before that it might not matter if he won or lost? This had to have felt a million times better – and it was going to open all sorts of doors for him in the future to prove himself even more.

 _It wasn't my parents or my title that helped me back there…I helped myself. And once I figure out what that "amazing power" was that Wedge said I displayed, I'll hone it and finally be free to carve out my own destiny. Someday I'll have to shoulder the burden of becoming the King of Baron…but today, I just want to be Ceodore, the Red Wing._

After the ship had reached its cruising altitude, Biggs took a lap around the deck, checking on everyone and getting their status reports. When he reached Ceodore, he stopped, putting his hands on his hips. "How's it feel, Ceodore?"

Ceodore snapped out of his fantasizing, and stood up straighter. "Sir?"

Instead of getting angry at him for not paying attention, Biggs merely repeated himself, much to Ceodore's surprise. "How's it feel to be a knight?"

Ceodore flushed. He was giddy, but he didn't want to act so excitable in front of his new Captain. "I...I'm not sure what to say, sir."

Biggs smirked. "Of course you aren't. The "Knight's Emblem" is just a name. You risked your life in there to obtain a mummified rat tail."

Ceodore blanched, and swore that he felt the Knight's Emblem suddenly squirm in his pocket. So…that's what it was. _Ugh._

Biggs shook his head. "Have you figured it out yet, boy? You don't become a knight just because you obtained the Emblem. It is simply a test of your resolve. You've only arrived at the start of your journey. There is yet a long road ahead before you truly belong to the Red Wings."

Ceodore nodded, forcing himself to stand a little straighter. "Yes, sir!"

Wedge joined Biggs. "Amazing, Prince Ceodore! I can't wait to see you become a paladin and follow in your father's footsteps."

Ceodore raised his eyebrows. He was in too much of a good mood for the time being to let Wedge's comment get him down, and he could sense Biggs eagerly waiting for his reaction, ready to pounce if it was deemed too whiny. _I knew this would happen…that people are still going to compare me to Father! But I can't talk back to Wedge – he's now one of my senior officers._

Ceodore took a tempered breath. "I haven't made up my mind about becoming a paladin yet." That was an entirely different trial – one that his father had never really discussed. He realized dejectedly now that he was thinking about it, why wouldn't have his father ever told him about becoming a paladin? Did he think Ceodore had never stood a chance, and that the most he could possibly amount to was joining the Red Wings?

 _But you never asked him, either,_ a small voice whispered in the back of Ceodore's mind.

Wedge blinked. "Why not, my lord? With the blood from King Cecil and Queen Rosa, surely you could be..."

A soldier in the rear of the ship interrupted them, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Incoming attack!"

Ceodore and Wedge whirled around, and Biggs turned red, raising his fist.

"Calm down, soldier! You call yourself a knight of the Red Wings?"

The soldier did not bother to have the grace to act chastised. "But, but Captain! We, we have monsters! Countless swarms of them!" He closed the scope he had been holding, and tossed it to them. Ceodore happened to catch it first, and pried it open, gazing out toward the rear of the ship and gasping.

"What!?"

A flock of Belphegors were heading straight for them – there were too many to count, but Ceodore got to at least fifteen before giving up. They were gargoyle-like creatures that had midnight-blue scales and glowing, pupil-less amber eyes that once locked onto their prey, didn't give up pursuing it until it was dead. Ceodore could hear the flapping of their bat-like wings beating in unison as they got closer and closer, and lowered the scope, collapsing it against his hip. He looked back at Biggs desperately, while nervously withdrawing his sword. His hand kept slipping, slick with sweat, as he tried to grasp the hilt.

"Here they come!"

Biggs nodded, motioning for the others to take their battle positions. "Brace yourself, Ceodore!"

Ceodore tried to steady the shaking of his hands as he waited for the first monster to get close enough to attack. He could hear their pilot cursing as he tried to lose them, but Ceodore knew it would only be a matter of time before the flock caught up. The ship could only go so fast, after all.

 _What is going on?!_ Ceodore could hear Biggs and some of the other soldiers that knew black magic firing off elemental spells to try to keep the monsters at a distance. _I thought that Belphegors lived in the mountains – and they don't normally travel in such huge packs…maybe I'm remembering wrong…but this still doesn't feel right!_

A pair of monsters finally approached Ceodore and Wedge from the side of the ship. They proceeded to hack away at the enemy with their swords, doing everything they could to keep the monsters away from the soldier trying to pilot the ship. But the felled beasts were quickly replaced by yet another pair, and then another, and another. Ceodore tried to keep their energy up with a constant string of Cure magic, but he could feel his reaction times getting slower and slower, and soon he was stumbling on his feet, his mana drained. He knew if he attempted to keep going that he would seriously hurt himself – siphoning his very life force to cast magic was the quick path to an early demise.

Gasping for breath, Ceodore leaned back against the mast, wiping the sweat from his forehead that was stinging his eyes. He reached down, pulling the ether he had gotten in the grotto from the pouch hanging around his waist, and tossed it back, the sour liquid making his eyes water. Wedge killed another monster, and stepped backwards a few feet in an effort to cover the vulnerable prince.

Biggs joined the two of them, not looking much better for wear. It seemed, however, as if the rear of the ship had been granted a temporary reprieve. "Gah! How can there be so many of them!?"

Wedge cast Cura on Biggs, who grunted his thanks.

The pilot looked over his shoulder, his voice filled with uneasiness. "Sirs…Smoke is coming from Baron's direction!"

Ceodore gasped, pushing himself off of the mast he had been resting against. In his haste, he dropped the empty bottle of ether, which shattered upon collision with the deck and crunched noisily underneath his boots. "What!?"

 _Mother…Father!_

Ceodore stormed through the broken glass toward the bow of the ship to get a better look. The pilot was right – thick, gray smoke was trailing into the sky in the far horizon. He pulled the scope out, his fingers trembling, and tried to take a closer look. It was blurry, but he could see a dark mass that had to have been Baron castle – and the smoke appeared to be originating from the keep. He lowered the scope, feeling as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

 _No…!_ He closed his eyes, clutching the scope in his fist and looking down. _What is going on?_ _How could this have happened in just the time I was away?_ A sickening chill ran up his spine as he remembered how distant he had been with his parents right before he had left. All he had been able to think about was how much he _didn't_ need them and about how exciting the prospect of breaking away from his identity as a golden prince was. But now…was that decision going to be made _for_ him?

Biggs, seeing the look of disheartenment on Ceodore's face, thrust out his fist, barking his orders. "Full speed ahead!" The pilot nodded, and the process of shifting the gears of the engine made the entire ship shake beneath their feet.

A Belphegor suddenly swooped down from above, screeching wildly as it extended its claws toward Ceodore's listless form. Ceodore looked up too late, his eyes wide with terror as the scope fell from his fingers with a loud clatter.

"Prince Ceodore!"

Wedge dove forward, throwing himself in front of the Belphegor just as it raised its arm to strike…

* * *

 _Baron Castle_

The doors to the throne room opened, and Queen Rosa of Baron crossed the threshold, nodding to the two guards who promptly drew the doors shut behind her. Her hair was swept into an opulent bun, her long bangs framing her face and curling over her shoulders. She wore a form-fitting, long-sleeved white cotton voile gown that gently rustled as she approached the throne, her pink and purple ombre damask cloak flowing behind her. A white silk scarf was draped over her shoulders, hand-stitched with ivory accents, and a silver belt encircled her waist.

Her eyes fell upon her husband, Cecil, the King of Baron. He was sitting in his throne, talking with the guard who held a constant post in the throne room whenever Cecil was occupying it. His shoulder-length hair was falling in his eyes as he spoke, and he was already dressed in his pearl-white and navy ceremonial armor in anticipation of Ceodore's arrival home later that day. She hadn't seen him in it since the day they were married – it was the armor granted to him by the light of Mount Ordeals when he became a paladin, restored in crystal by the great smithy of the underworld, Kokkol as a wedding gift. Since then, the Baronian armory had added dark navy spikes added to the knees, and had fashioned a new pair of matching spiked pauldrons that sat high upon his shoulders, giving him even more of a regal air – there was no doubt in that uniform that Cecil was truly one of the most powerful men in the world. A gold and violet cloak was draped around his neck and shoulders, spilling over the seat of the throne.

Rosa's heart was still heavy over Ceodore – what if the mission _didn't_ go as planned? Ceodore had seemed so stressed and distant – he had barely uttered a good-bye to her when he left. Rosa thought back to her conversation with Cecil that morning when she had caught him gazing out their window – closely studying the full moon that could still be seen in the daybreak.

And for reasons she didn't quite understand yet, she realized her son was not the only one she was worried for…Cecil had had the same distant look in his eyes as Ceodore as he stared at the moon…

"…Rosa?"

Rosa realized she had reached the throne, but had not yet said a word of greeting to anyone in the room. Cecil was smiling at her, and she could tell the guard he had been talking to was trying to keep a straight face in reaction to her vacant stare.

"Sorry," Rosa shook her head. "Just lost in thought." She realized with embarrassment that she hadn't even had a real purpose for coming into the throne room in the first place – she had just suddenly felt like she needed to be by Cecil's side. _What is wrong with me this morning?_

"I was just giving Ky the rundown on the preparations being prepared for Ceodore's homecoming," Cecil beamed. It warmed Rosa's heart to see how excited Cecil was about Ceodore's rather hasty decision to join the air force – even more so that Cecil's faith in Ceodore was so unshakable that there was no trace of doubt in his mind that his son was not going to come home a fully-fledged Red Wing. She felt the guilt of her ambivalence weigh down on her heart even more – it wasn't that she didn't think Ceodore could succeed – but _something_ about this sudden turn of events just didn't feel right.

For fifteen years, Cecil, Rosa and Ceodore had been an inseparable family unit – Cecil and Rosa had taken great pains to give Ceodore everything they had both lacked growing up in terms of parental guidance, along with the affectionate support of their dear friends they had met so long ago when fighting to save the Blue Planet. Of course, as the years had passed and the kingdoms of the world grew in their separate directions post-war, it had become harder to get everyone in the same place for even a few hours of visitation – it had quickly become the norm to have a birthday or another celebration with a friend or two missing, and nowadays they were lucky if the number of their friends who were able to attend various state gatherings could be counted on one hand. Cecil and Rosa understood it was part of growing up – they had been so young when they had been embroiled in the war and when they had started their family that it was inevitable that they, and their friends, would continue to evolve and grow apart with the years.

But despite the distance that had become the standard between all of the warriors who had once saved the planet, the royal family of Baron had always had each other, along with Cid, of course, who was Ceodore's grandfather in all but name. It was the one constant Cecil and Rosa had managed to hold onto despite everything and everyone – including themselves – transforming. As time marched on, it had simply no longer hurt as much as it once did to not see the others, and even the festering wound left from Kain's disappearance long before Ceodore's birth had healed into impervious scar tissue.

Rosa made herself return Cecil's smile, gazing into his eyes – the same shining blue as Ceodore's. She couldn't keep wallowing in nostalgia – this was just another evolution that she had to face as a human – no, as a mother. _And Ceodore is evolving, too...he's not a child anymore…_

The peaceful moment between the two royals was shattered when a soldier burst into the room, choking for breath as he kneeled before Cecil and Rosa. "My liege! A large horde of monsters is headed this way!"

Cecil frowned and narrowed his eyes in confusion, immediately rising from the throne. "What!?"

Rosa covered her mouth, her heart pounding. "But their numbers were supposed to be dwindling the world over! Where could they have possibly come from?"

As if to answer her query, a violent quake ripped through the throne room, and she would have fallen forward if not for Ky grabbing her shoulders and pulling her upright against his chest. A loud screech could be heard from outside – and it wasn't human. However, she couldn't tell from what direction it had come from, or how far away it actually was.

Cecil reached out, briefly resting his hand over hers. "You stay here, Rosa."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Cecil ignored her and turned to Ky.

"Protect Rosa for me."

Yes, sir!" Ky nodded, and Rosa could feel his grip tightening on her arms.

"Cecil…" Rosa trailed off. There was another quake, and a raucous crash that sounded as if a pile of bricks had been demolished up above. She was half-expecting the ceiling to collapse down upon them right that instant and end it all.

Cecil shook his head, removing his hand from hers to withdraw his sword. "Don't worry about me. Just stay right here. I'll be right back once I figure out what's going on. I promise."

Rosa pressed her lips together. Nothing she was going to say would change his mind – she knew that much. She decided to bide her time for now. Cecil turned and left, the soldier who had burst in to warn them following closely behind. Rosa watched as the throne room doors slammed shut behind them, muffling another ominous crashing sound in the distance.

Cecil ran toward the entrance of the castle, his heart racing as terrified citizens screamed and ran for cover all around him. It had been so long since any of the residents of Baron had had to deal with any kind of monster attack, that many of them simply had no idea what to do, particularly the younger generations that were in the castle now for magic classes and training. The chaos of the citizenry alone made for a precarious situation. _Forgive me, Rosa…I can't put you in senseless danger!_

When Cecil and the soldier had reached the castle gates, he found another group of soldiers, Dragoons specifically, frantically trying to bar the door. However, they weren't under attack, although there appeared to have been a struggle – gray, powdery dust, the remains of monsters when they perished, was scattered everywhere, and Cecil saw that many of the Dragoon's lances and swords were bloodied. "Where are they coming from?" Cecil asked, and the Dragoons turned to their king breathlessly.

"We don't know, sir!"

"There're so many of them..."

Cecil clenched his jaw in frustration. He supposed it would have been too simple for the monsters to just start marching in through the front door. Clearly, the Dragoons had let none of the monsters pass through. "All of you, stay on your guard right here."

"Yes, sir! We'll guard the throne with our lives, sir!"

Cecil retreated back into the castle, this time alone. As he crossed back into the great hall within the keep, which was now largely deserted, he came across a young boy dressed in the apprentice robes of the black mages, bawling his eyes out. He was collapsed on the floor, his straw hat askew and his oversized robe sleeves stained with tears and snot.

"My mommy is in the village! I want my mommy!"

Cecil kneeled down, placing his hand on the boy's back. For a moment, he couldn't help but think of Ceodore, although it had been years and years since he had been this small and scared. And he had always been vulnerable only with Rosa…Cecil had noticed that Ceodore had always tried to put on a brave face when his father was around.

 _Please don't let Ceodore come back to this chaos – may the gods keep him safe with Biggs and the others, far away from here…_

"Come now – it's not safe to travel to the village at the moment. Where is the rest of your class?"

The boy sniffled and motioned behind him, where the stairwell that led to the black magic classroom was. Cecil hoisted the boy to his feet, and gently turned him so that he faced the stairs.

"You need to go back to them until you are given the all-clear, OK? Can you be the messenger for your class and tell them that for me?"

The boy's hat flopped down onto his shoulders as he reached up to rub his eyes. As he looked back at Cecil, his eyes widened, and his lip began to quiver.

"King Cecil…behind you!"

Cecil swung around just in time to raise his sword laterally to block the incoming blow from the Belphegor that had snuck up behind him. The Belphegor emitted a shrill cry as the king's holy blade burned its flesh upon contact; Cecil didn't even flinch from the impact. Raising his sword, he countered with a vicious thrust into the Belphegor's chest, causing it to stumble back in a daze and immediately erupt into a pile of dust. Cecil turned back to the child, who was staring up at him, mouth agape.

"Go, now!" Cecil hissed, and the child turned, fleeing and disappearing down the stairs. Cecil pushed his hair out of his eyes, cursing under his breath.

 _They've already made their way inside the castle! We need to secure the other areas, quickly…The castle gate is secured, and yet monsters are within the keep – so where are they coming from?_

Cecil knew that the throne room was being guarded by Ky, so he took off down the western corridor, which would take him to where most of the citizenry of the castle was housed. However, at the end of the hall, he ran into another Dragoon that was standing guard, who appeared unhurt.

"King Cecil!" The Dragoon quickly bowed his head.

"Have any monsters come through here?" Cecil asked breathlessly. The soldier shook his head.

"No, my liege. Cid and several other soldiers stationed in the western tower have taken up arms to fight any enemy that may approach. This area is secure and we have evacuated everyone to the magic labs. However, I am not sure about the eastern tower and the shipyard."

"Very well," Cecil nodded. "We must keep the great hall secured for anyone else that is found. Do not let _anything_ through."

"On my life, Your Highness," the soldier crossed his arm over his chest, making another quick bow.

Cecil turned to run back the other direction, toward the eastern tower. As soon as he set foot on the walkway that carried him over the shipyard, he was ambushed by a Zuu and three Cockatrices, birds of prey that hailed from the mountains of the far east – specifically, Mysidia. Cecil didn't have time to wonder how in the world they had made their way across the ocean to Baron – he struck them all down effortlessly with one swing each, watching as their bodies collapsed into the shipyard below and exploded into dust. Crossing into the tower that would take him back to the ground floor, he tried to enter the storeroom hidden just before the exit to see if anyone was trapped inside, but the mechanism that kept the room normally locked shut had been jammed. It looked as if something – or someone – had slammed into it, crushing it into the wall.

"Is anyone in there?" Cecil called, banging on the door with his fist. He pressed his ear against the wooden door, but could hear no voices, and better yet, no monsters. Satisfied for the time being, he turned and made off to the shipyard.

In the shadow of the walkway he had just crossed, Cecil could see the body of a soldier laying face-down, unmoving. His blonde hair was spilled around him, tangled in dirt and blood. Running to his side, Cecil knelt down and cautiously turned the man over. The entire right side of his face was bruised and dirtied, and blood was running down his temple, but Cecil could see that he was breathing, slight as those breaths were. His arm had a deep laceration that was still letting blood, and more unfortunate was the twisted state of his leg – Cecil could tell right away that it had been shattered. He realized the man must have fallen from the walkway above and tried to crawl into the shadows to hide.

"Cura!" Cecil whispered, and in the fading light of the spell, the soldier opened his eyes, coughing weakly as he looked up at Cecil. By the cloudiness of the man's stare, Cecil wasn't even entirely sure if the soldier recognized who he was.

"Ergh. Where are these monsters coming from? I was running toward the tower when…"

"Conserve your energy," Cecil said firmly, and tugged off the taupe woven bracer that was wrapped around his left forearm, tearing it into a strip of cloth and tying it around the soldier's bleeding arm wound. "Hide down here. I'll send help for you as soon as the eastern tower is secured. Do not try to stand – your leg is broken. If you have to, play dead."

"Aye," the soldier moaned, closing his eyes again and resting his head in the grass. Cecil backed away, scanning the shipyard for any more monsters before making a beeline for the tower doors.

He was greeted by a pair of shambling zombies shuffling at the base of the tower stairs, their decaying flesh hanging from their skulls by mere strips of skin. Tatters of clothing and armor hung from what had once been their chests, now rotting cavities that their rib bones jutted out of crookedly. They hadn't been able to figure out how to climb the stairs, but with Cecil's arrival, they had a new distraction. Turning their heads and locking their empty eye sockets in his direction, they lunged forward, their gnarly fingers clicking together as bone ground against bone.

"Raise!" Cecil called, and a burst of gossamer feathers rained down upon the zombies, embracing them in heavenly light. A spell that was normally used to revive a human that was knocked senseless, it was a deathblow for any reanimated creature. Cecil pushed past the incapacitated beasts as he bolted up the stairs, the mere act of his hand brushing them aside dissolving them into nothingness once again.

"If someone is here, call out to me!" Cecil yelled into the summit of the tower as he raced up the stairs. He thought he heard the sound of crates falling from above, but between the sound of his heart pounding in his ears and the echoed stomping of his footsteps reverberating in the tower spire, he realized he could barely make out anything else.

"HELP!" a familiar woman's voice screamed, and he heard another crash, closer this time. "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

 _There's definitely someone here!_ Cecil breached the top of the tower, throwing open the first of two doors in the hall. He found a cowering woman in the far corner of the room, a staff clutched in one hand and a lit torch she had grabbed from the wall in the other. Her red hair was sticking to her forehead and neck, matted in sweat, and her white mage robes were torn down the front, like something had grabbed at her. Cecil recognized her as one of Rosa's former handmaidens before she gave birth to Ceodore and one of the castle's white magic teachers, Penelope.

Penelope was being cornered by an Ogre, an oafish, stupid, but terribly strong monster, which was nine feet of solid muscle and malice. Once again, Cecil was struck by how bizarre it was that a creature like this was shambling around Baron in plain daylight – Ogres usually kept to themselves, making colonies in dank caves or abandoned settlements shaded by lots of abandoned structures or trees. Cecil himself had only ever encountered an Ogre in combat once before – when he was investigating the then-abandoned Eblanese castle basement looking for survivors of Rubicante's brutal razing of the castle. He had never seen an Ogre even on the entire continent Baron sat upon – until now.

Striking from behind before the Ogre could even realize he was there, Cecil sliced his blade through the neck of the barbarian, lopping its head off cleanly and sending it rolling opposite from Penelope (thankfully). Penelope let out a shriek as the Ogre's headless body crashed into the crates she had tried to pull around her as a protective fort, sending splinters of wood and food debris flying. Cecil reached out his hand, and Penelope hung the torch back up on the wall and grasped Cecil's fingers so that he could help her stumble over the twitching, dying body.

"King Cecil!" Penelope cried, swiping her damp bangs from her eyes. "Thank you…"

Cecil nodded. "Get inside the great hall! It's too dangerous here!"

"Y-yes, my liege!" Penelope gulped, and with one last glance at the Ogre, clutched her staff tighter and disappeared through the threshold. Cecil could hear her footsteps on the stairs fading away as he ducked into the second of the two doors on the floor, glancing inside. However, it was empty – no signs of life or any disturbances.

Cecil followed Penelope back down the tower steps, although she was long-gone. Finding only a couple of monsters meant that they probably weren't coming from the east – but at least this part of the castle was secure for now. As Cecil traversed the shipyard to make his way back to the great hall, he glanced over at the soldier with the broken leg, noting that he was still safe, and peacefully resting. He would send someone back for him shortly – as soon as he could find the damned source of the invasion.

 _I must sweep the western tower as well_ , Cecil thought. _Cid and the others might need my help – and it will grant me access to the rear overlook. I should be able to see everything going on in the castle from there._

As Cecil made his way back to the great hall, he heard a shout and the sound of armor grinding against stone. Readying his blade, Cecil followed the noises and found the soldier that was guarding access to the west of the castle on his back at the base of the stairs that led out to the courtyard. His helmet was knocked off and several feet behind him. His sword had also been tossed away – Cecil nearly tripped over it as he flanked the fallen soldier.

"Are you okay!?" Cecil bent down, and the soldier groaned, not opening his eyes.

"I...I am sorry, my liege!"

Cecil heard the clop of hooves above him, and looked up to see a Centaur Knight barreling toward him down the stairs, its lance reared. He rose and parried the monster's attack, groaning under the strain as he shoved the heavy beast away and surged forward, driving his blade deep into the Centaur Knight's horseflesh abdomen. The monster stumbled backwards, collapsing upon the stairs and bleeding out as it began to crumble to dust.

Cecil whirled around, taking one last glance at the fallen guard. He had to hurry – lest another monster come to try to finish them off. "Hang in there, soldier!"

There came no reply, and Cecil forced himself to turn away and run up the stairs, his heart sinking.

He wove through the small hallway that would take him to the courtyard leading to the western tower and access to the overlook. Just as he was about to cross into the courtyard, he heard rushed footfalls behind him, and a voice that called his name. Even in distress, the voice sounded melodious, like a soothing lullaby.

"Cecil!"

Cecil stopped and turned – Rosa was chasing after him, her wooden sandals smacking against the blood-stained stone steps. Clutched in her hand was her crossbow, and her forehead was creased with determination. For a moment, Cecil felt a wave of déjà vu wash over him – taking him back nearly seventeen years ago, when Rosa had stopped him in this very hallway after his most painful mission as a Dark Knight – executing the mages of Mysidia to abduct the Crystal of Water. The look in her eyes back then, the light within that seemed to penetrate his very soul, was the same right now, and burning with even more intensity.

"Rosa!" Cecil took a step backward, barricading the exit that would take them to the courtyard. "What are you doing here? Where's Ky?"

Rosa shook her head. "I told Ky I'm coming with you. He's continuing to secure the throne room and making sure everyone barricaded in the magic labs is all right."

Cecil turned away from her, sheathing his blade and crossing his arms over his chest. "No, you can't. I _will not_ let you put yourself in danger."

 _This is much worse than I initially anticipated. I have to protect Rosa, at all costs…_

Rosa stepped forward defiantly, her cheeks turning red with anger. "I could say the same to you, Cecil. A white mage by your side would allow you to concentrate in case of a fight, wouldn't it?" Cecil looked down, feeling his resolve waver – just slightly. Of course, she was correct – she had saved his life more times than he could ever hope to count, and he hated to admit that he was already tiring from the battles he had won on his own. He had been out of the battlefield for so long, after all. But…

...Something harrowing and aching in his heart was holding him back. It was the same strange feeling he had gotten looking at the moon that morning from bed, a feeling he hadn't encountered in over fifteen years. A part of him that had been asleep for a very long time – his Lunarian intuition – was rousing from its slumber. And that only happened when something was very wrong.

He had initially thought that perhaps it was just Ceodore's trial that was making him feel strange, but…he knew now it had to have been something much more terrifying. And he was quite positive it would be revealing itself to him shortly; in whatever monstrous form that might be…and he didn't want Rosa there to witness it.

Cecil sighed loudly. Despite the impending danger, he knew there was going to be no winning with her – she was the only person in Baron possibly more stubborn than himself – but perhaps he could negotiate.

"Fair enough. But I want you to promise me this. If worse comes to worst, I want you to run away, even if it's by yourself. Run…and survive."

Rosa gasped, reaching for Cecil's hand from behind. Her fingers clutched his tightly as she choked out the words lodged in her throat. "…And leave you to die?" The crippling anxiety that had taken hold of her heart when she entered the throne room earlier that morning came roaring back, like a tidal wave that smashed into her unawares and dragged her into the undertow. She _had known_ something was wrong – and now she knew Cecil had felt it as well…

They had been together so long, after all – ever since they were children. They didn't need words spoken aloud to know what was reflected in each other's hearts – be it happiness, love or utter despair.

Cecil closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the warmth of her touch washed over him like a healing balm. Ironically, it gave him the courage to press forward with his bargain. "Yes." He hesitated a moment. There was only one person in the world Rosa would put her love for ahead of Cecil's, although he felt terrible for using that love to manipulate her. But he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't felt so strongly for that one person as well. "For _Ceodore's_ sake!"

Rosa pressed her lips together and willed away the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. _Of course, Cecil is right…Ceodore is our only son…this kingdom's future…if he were to be orphaned…the tragedies of the past Cecil and I have been trying to protect him from would occur all over again…_

 _But Cecil, I would gladly give my life for you so that Ceodore had his father…you are his only tie to his Lunarian blood…A future without you or my son…it's something I cannot accept! I know that makes me selfish…_

Rosa looked away, dropping Cecil's hand and clutching her bow so tightly to her chest that her knuckles turned white.

"…I promise."

Cecil nodded, pushing open the door without looking back at her. He didn't want her to see the look of agony twisted in his features.

"Let's go."

In the courtyard, the morning sun was shining brightly, giving no credence to the anarchy breeding within the castle keep. Cecil saw several shadows fly past them, and as he gazed up, he saw a small group of monsters soaring high above, aimlessly cruising the castle perimeter. Either they hadn't spotted Cecil and Rosa, or the royals were of no interest to them at the moment.

Cecil frowned, thinking aloud. "The monsters are coming from the sky...?"

Rosa shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand, looking around cautiously to see if they were about to be dive-bombed. When her eyes fell upon the heavy moon still visible in the sky, she felt the blood drain from her face. There was a shadow behind it – an unmistakable object growing brighter and larger. "Cecil, look! The moon!"

Cecil followed her gaze, and was taken aback. Slowly but surely, a second moon was appearing – it was smaller than their moon, but still large enough at nearly half its size. It appeared to be almost emerging from their moon's shadow – as if it had been a sly child proudly crawling from a prized hiding place in a game of tag – the undisputed victor.

Cecil couldn't tear his eyes away. "Is that Golbez's...? Why now, of all times?"

"I…" Rosa paused and shook her head. What could she possibly say at this point? She realized the answer was: Nothing of consequence.

A few yards away, a soldier was dead on the ground, his body blocking the entrance to the Baron castle prison which had been converted into a glorified storage room due to lack of use. Rosa tried not to gag when she noticed the soldier's still fresh blood dripping down the door panels. Whatever had gotten him had made it swift and terribly painful. Taking Cecil's hand, she tried to lead him toward the western tower, where perhaps more citizens were hiding out, but even as Cecil followed her, his gaze was on the skies above.

"Cecil, Rosa!"

Cecil snapped out of it and glanced toward the overlook. Cid was calling to them from above, motioning for them to stay put. He disappeared, and a few moments later, emerged from the passageway that would have taken them to the overlook, panting for breath from taking the stairs down two at a time.

Cid was as stout as ever, the only real sign of his septuagenarian status that his once flaming-red beard had turned completely snow white; something he blamed his rambunctious grandson Mid for and not his actual age. There had been no gradual graying – it seemed as if Cid had just literally shown up to the castle one day with white hair. Coincidentally or not, it was the day after he took his only holiday from work that Cecil could ever remember in his entire life.

Cecil recalled how one of Cid's apprentices had rushed into the castle on a lazy spring morning, letting Cecil know that Cid wouldn't be into work that day so that he could fret over his daughter's labor with his grandson. Cecil and Rosa had been so shocked that they were dumbstruck for a full ten minutes after the apprentice left them. They had known that Amelia was expecting – thanks to Cid's overwhelming excitement and scientific, calculated nature, they practically knew the day the poor woman had conceived – but Cid had _never_ taken a day off – until the day Mid arrived.

But once Mid was here, everything had returned to normal in Cid's workaholic life – except for his hair.

Cid pulled a red lacquer pipe from his mouth, which had nothing in it. Cid had picked up some new eccentric habits in the past seventeen years, including smoking a pipe that didn't ever have any tobacco in it. Supposedly, Amelia had caught him smoking just one time, and reamed him out for it so loudly and violently that it was the gossip of the village for weeks after the fact. Cid never smoked again – but he had become so accustomed to the feel of the pipe in his teeth that he kept it on as an accessory.

"You're damn late, Cecil! What've you been doing this whole time!?"

Rosa shook her head. "I'm glad to see you safe, Cid."

Cid puffed out his chest, pounding on it with his fist. "Of course I am! I haven't slowed down that much, you know! What I'd like to know, though, is where these monsters came from outta the blue!"

Cecil put his hands on his hips, his voice not betraying any of the angst he had laid bare for Rosa just moments ago. "I wish I knew…"

Cid pushed himself up on his tiptoes (as much as he hated to admit it, he had become even shorter with age – but no one dared talked about it), glancing around. "Where's Ceodore?"

"He's on an expedition with the Red Wings to obtain the Knight's Emblem..." Cecil took a sharp breath. Rosa glanced at him with concern in her eyes, and Cid stared at the two of them, panic creeping into his tone.

"He ain't back yet!?"

Cecil waved his hand as if the very motion itself would brush away any negative thoughts. "There's no need to worry. Biggs is there to take care of him."

Cid rubbed his hands together. "Well then, I'd guess we'd better do something about this place ourselves! Wouldn't want to spoil his celebration banquet. We, er…are having one, right?"

The only thing Cid loved more than airships and his family (natural and extended) was fancy banquet food and excuses to eat it.

"The plans are already in place," Cecil said with a half-smile. Cid grinned, popping his pipe back into his mouth.

"Fantastic. Follow me, eh? I've already checked the west tower and your quarters – no one is there. I'm guessing you want to see what's going on from above?"

Cid led them through the passageway that took them to the overlook. Once they had climbed the steps and reached the top, Cecil approached the carved-marble guardrail, staring into the distance. There were no signs of monster hoards around the perimeter of the castle, and Cecil could still see the dragoons he had stationed at the gates, all alive and well. If any more monsters had approached, they had been already dispatched. Even further out, in the village, things appeared to be peaceful enough.

Cecil shook his head in disbelief. What was the logic to these attacks? If the monsters were trying to get to as much of the Baron population as possible, the village would have been the ideal target – not that Cecil wasn't grateful this wasn't the case for now. "The castle gate has not been breached..."

Cid slammed his fist into his palm. "That means they _must_ have flown in! I was wondering where they had come from with all the guards stationed around the castle."

Rosa, who had been warily eyeing the sky with her automatic crossbow cocked to her shoulder, took a few steps backward and pointed to the west. "Here they come!"

A flock of four Belphegors was heading straight for them, making their descent upon the castle. Cid and Cecil withdrew their weapons, and Rosa peered through her bow's cross-hairs, firing off a series of arrows in rapid succession. Two of the Belphegors fell from the sky before they could reach the party, having been struck dead by Rosa's remarkable aim. The other two doubled-down on their speed, screeching as they tried to swat at Cecil and Cid from above. Rosa closed her eyes, a warm aura encircling the party as she blessed them with Protect, Shell and Haste magic. With their enhanced defenses and Cid's massive hammer, the monsters were quickly destroyed – but more rushed over to eagerly take their place.

After twenty minutes of seemingly endless battling, the three of them pressing their backs to each other to cover all angles, they were granted amnesty, although the distant screeches that carried back to them on the wind indicated that it would not last for long. Cid set his hammer on the ground, leaning against it as he wheezed for breath.

"Cecil! These guys are coming at us in numbers like nothin' we've fought before!"

Rosa rubbed her sleeve across her forehead, sweat dripping into her eyes and dangling off the ends of her eyelashes like the morning dew. "There's just no end to this!"

Down below at the castle gates, Cecil could hear the dragoons engaging in a new battle. An unsettling scream came from the shipyard – Cecil feared it was the soldier he had found under the bridge and that a monster had appeared to finish him off.

He looked up at Rosa and Cid, both undoubtedly as enervated as himself. Cid was mopping the sweat from his ruddy face, and Rosa's hands were visibly shaking as she struggled to load the last of her arrows into her crossbow's magazine. Cecil clutched the handle of his sword as he lowered his head. He knew that this wasn't the end of their fighting – his Lunarian blood was pulsating with a fearful premonition as adrenaline coursed through his veins – he realized he had to help them escape while he was still standing.

"Cid, I've got a favor to ask."

Cid took his pipe out of his mouth, raising an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Still not looking up from the ground, Cecil pressed his lips into a straight line. "I want you to take Rosa and get out of the castle."

Rosa blinked, a couple of arrows slipping from her hand and clanging to the ground. "Cecil?"

Cecil finally found the nerve to look into his two dearest friends' eyes. They deserved to know the truth – what his ancestors' blood was warning him of. Cid's gaze was obscured behind his goggles, but Rosa's wide hazel eyes were riveted to his, the pink shadows underneath further pronouncing her exhaustion. "Baron will fall before long if this continues..."

Rosa's eyes darted away as she shook her head. "Cecil!"

Cid let out a half-hearted laugh, as he normally did when things were starting to take a turn for the uncomfortable. "Planning on going down with the ship?"

Rosa slung her bow over her shoulder, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm staying with you!"

Cecil crossed the small distance between them, clasping her shoulders and forcing her to turn to him. She was shocked by how deeply his fingers dug into her skin – they didn't hurt, but she felt an uncomfortable urgency reverberating from his grasp. "We had a promise. These are the king's orders, Rosa. Take care of Ceodore!"

Rosa looked up at him defiantly, not saying a word.

Cid put his hands on his hips. "Ah, brother...He always has to be so darn stubborn."

Cecil gave Cid a desperate look. _This was no time for jokes!_ "I'm counting on you, Cid! Please…" Cid waved his hand dismissively and popped his pipe back into his mouth. He couldn't let Cecil's dramatics get to him here – he had to be strong for Rosa. If it had been any other king, Cid would have told them to bite it. But he knew when to take Cecil seriously – and recognized that this was one of those times.

"Leave it to me! Just make sure you don't get yourself killed, got it?" As he walked past Cecil, he gave him a light slap on the back, and Cecil watched as Cid disappeared down the stairs that would take him back to the courtyard.

Rosa bit down on her lip. "…Cecil!" He turned back to her, swiftly lifting his hands from her shoulders to her face and pressing his mouth to hers fervently. She closed her eyes for just a moment, and then broke away, tears stinging her eyes as she took a few steps backward, taking in the suffocating despair pooling in her husband's eyes. When she could bear to look upon him no longer, she turned away and fled after Cid, her footsteps echoing mournfully behind her down the stairwell.

Cecil gazed out toward the castle gates, his heart pounding so hard that he thought for sure the monsters could use it as a homing beacon. A few moments later, he spotted what he was looking for – Rosa and Cid's diminishing forms breaking past the dragoon's stronghold and vanishing into the woods beyond.

 _Rosa...Ceodore's in your hands now, my dear!_

A cold, unsettling shadow passed over Cecil's form, making him feel as if he had suddenly stepped out into a winter storm without a coat. Glancing up, he was shocked to see a large, wyvern-like form sail past the twin moons and circle around, as if to ready a landing nearby. Cecil had only ever seen a dragon that enormous and that shade of night in his entire life – it was Bahamut, the All-Father of the Eidolons.

As Bahamut drew closer, Cecil could feel the warm wind from Bahamut's beating wings rush into his face, whipping his hair back. The dragon began to hover precariously over the ground, steadying his descent, and a slender figure jumped down from his back, briefly hidden behind Bahamut's wing. As she stepped forward, Cecil felt a jolt of excitement lighten his feet, and he began to run to her.

"Rydia!" He exclaimed. She stared at him coolly, tossing back a wave of green hair. She was wearing a flowing white gossamer gown that hung from her shoulders and blossomed into two long sleeves that billowed over her delicate white wrists. Fastened around her neck was a large silver and ruby-encrusted necklace that draped over her collarbone, with matching ruby orbs dangling from her ears. Her bare feet barely made a sound as they touched down to the overlook.

But as Cecil got closer, he realized that something was wrong.

 _Wait…no…_

With the light of the twin moons shining down upon her, the girl's hair was revealed to be more of a shining teal than green, and fell in soft waves just past her shoulders, with wing-tipped bangs that framed her forehead and fell right above her lightless eyes – stained a deep amber hue. Cecil could see those eyes burning into him with each hesitating step he took, until he finally willed himself to stop a few feet away from her.

 _Where have I seen those eyes before?_ Cecil wondered, feeling himself break into a cold sweat at just the sight of them. _Deeply disturbed, yet apathetic at the same time..._

The girl cocked her head. Her ruby jewelry jingled as she moved, like a bell you would tie onto a meddlesome cat. "So you're Cecil..."

Cecil drew in a sharp breath, his hand hovering at the hilt of his sword as if by instinct – like his body had done this before.

 _So, we have met…my body remembers…but my memory fails me…_

Cecil narrowed his eyes. "You know who I am?"

Without deigning to reply, she glanced instead at Bahamut. Cecil followed her gaze, and was horrified to see that Bahamut had been biding his time while Cecil was entranced by the mysterious girl, silently preparing his signature attack, Mega Flare. Smoke was curling out of his nostrils, and with a low growl, his jaws began to part, revealing gleaming rows of teeth and bubbling flames spilling between them like molten lava oozing from a volcano, the fiery drips sizzling on the stone under their feet.

With one yawn of Bahamut's gargantuan maw, a maelstrom of fire and ensorcelled fury washed over Cecil, engulfing the entire overlook within seconds with exploding flares and billowing smoke. The soldiers that heard and saw the explosion from below let out a series of astonished screams and shouts, barreling past each other to abandon their posts and investigate what happened. They ran in such haste that they didn't even notice the threatening presence of the massive dragon peering down upon them from the eye of the destruction.

As the flames began to clear, giving way to more entrails of smoke that escaped into the sky, the girl peered down at the defeated King of Baron collapsed at her feet in a pitiful heap. For a brief moment, she thought she saw the gleam of a holy white aura entwine itself around his still body, but it flickered and disappeared as soon as she knelt down to investigate.

Reaching out as if she were afraid of being burned, the girl gingerly ran a finger through Cecil's silver-white hair, letting the silky locks dangle from her fingers like a ribbon as she lifted her hand up and away. Pressing her cheek against her hand, she tilted her head in thought and gently rocked on the balls of her feet, musing out loud over Cecil's fallen form.

"So this is the limit of a half-breed. As expected..."

* * *

 _The Red Wings_

Ceodore fell to his knees and covered his head just as Wedge struck at the beast attacking him, landing a critical blow to its heart right at the last second. The Belphegor screamed in defeat and burst into dust that rained over Ceodore's cowering body.

As Ceodore clenched his eyes shut, he felt a sudden and violent snap in his chest – like his heart had been torn away from his arteries, forcing the breath out of him like a child popping a balloon with a needle. He cried out in agony, digging his fingers into his skull in a futile exercise to distract himself from the pain. In his mind, there came a flash of blinding light, and his father's face appeared, smiling and kind as he lifted a young Ceodore into his arms and perched him on his shoulder, gazing out into the night sky while the full moon shined upon the castle overlook.

* * *

 _Father…tell me what it means again…when you said we were Lunarians? Does that mean our true home is on the moon? That one right over there?_

 _Not exactly…long ago, our ancestors, the Lunarians, came to the Blue Planet on a moon similar to that one – but it went away when the war ended, before you were even born. There, they sleep, waiting for the right time to join us forever. When that happens, there will cease to be Lunarians and humans…we will all become one people, and evolve together._

 _But if they are sleeping, why are you and I here? Shouldn't we sleep with them?_

 _I was born on this planet, Ceodore…and of course, you were too. That makes the Blue Planet…and Baron, our home. My father – he would have been your grandfather – fell in love with a human woman, and they had a family. And I fell in love with your mother – and that's how you came to be. Even though you and I only have a fraction of Lunarian blood, it's as strong as any magic in this world, and as powerful as any human bond. When I'm really scared of something, I can feel your grandfather's light within my very soul, giving me the strength to face my fears. And I hope someday, my light will protect you as well, and help guide you in the world when you have to be without me._

 _…But that's not going to be for a long time, right?_

 _Of course. You and I...We share a special bond, thanks to our blood. We'll always be together, even when we're not – because you're my son._

* * *

Ceodore felt the tears spill from his eyes before he even realized he was crying. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to sense his father's presence any longer. All he could do was recall memories – random conversations, arguments, mundane events – he could no longer reach deep inside himself, and take hold of the delicate thread that had been woven around his heart for as long as he could remember – with it would come the warm, consoling feeling one had when they knew they were being protected...

…Now, his fingers grasped at empty air – something had severed the thread, and left him with a glacial, hollow feeling in his chest.

Ceodore moaned into his knees, hiccuping as he gasped for air. "This feeling...It couldn't be that my father…!?"

Behind him, Biggs growled as he spotted yet more monsters closing in on the ship. It was only going to be a matter of moments before they would be able to reach the deck, and they would need to take up arms once more. "Maximum speed! I don't care if we blow the engine to pieces!"

"We're already beyond maximum output, Captain!" the pilot protested.

There was a violent dip in the ship's altitude that nearly made Ceodore throw up. He slowly pulled himself from the floor, grasping onto the bow of the ship in an attempt to gain his bearings. He was shocked to see the ship weaving in a frenzy – and a new gang of monsters had weaseled their way under the ship while the crew was distracted by the beasts approaching from the rear. Ceodore watched in horror as three Belphegors surfaced where no one could reach them with magic and slammed into the side of the ship as a collective unit, resulting in a loud explosion of splintering wood and sputtering engines. The ship began to spiral uncontrollably, the steering wheel spinning so hard that the pilot was thrown to the deck from trying to hold on.

"We...We've gone off course!" Ceodore blanched. He could see the ship taking a hard turn away from the yet-distant content that contained Baron and instead drifting toward a massive swath of forestry to the south.

Another soldier ran to them from the rear of the ship, nearly falling on his face as the ship took another extreme dip. "Critical damage to the right wing! We've lost control!"

Ceodore screamed as one of the monsters that had attacked the wing rose before him, striking him with a clubbed tail before he could even attempt a block. He was thrown into a mast, stars bursting in his vision as he slid to the deck and gasped for the air that had been knocked out of his lungs.

"Prince Ceodore!" Wedge cried.

The ship shuddered once more, tilting deeper as flames began to crawl up the damaged wing. Ceodore could taste the acrid smoke on his tongue as his strength gave out, and he mercifully lost consciousness, his body idly sliding down the deck as the ship's stern jutted into the sky.

Biggs let out a string of curses as the pilot climbed back to his feet and tried to wrestle the wheel back under his control – but even he could see it was far too late for any further attempts of corrective action. As the ship spiraled dizzily into oblivion and the flames licked higher, now claiming the sails, Biggs threw his body over Ceodore's, shielding the prince from the suffocating smoke and the screams of the other soldiers.


	3. Act Three: The Hooded Man's Tale

Act Three: The Hooded Man's Tale | The Last of the Red Wings

 _The Feymarch, X days after the moon's return_

Rydia stood helplessly before the King and Queen of the Eidolons in their chamber, feeling as if someone had taken her heart and squeezed until it had burst into nothingness. But despite the queen's cruel words, she would not let herself cry – she would not give Asura the pleasure of witnessing her in an emotive state, which she knew the queen would consider a weakness of humans like herself. As she straightened her spine and raised her chin defiantly, she noticed that Leviathan had paused, not looking at either Rydia or Asura. He cocked one overgrown, wiry gray eyebrow and stepped forward, his face falling.

Rydia suddenly forgot about her tough-girl act and rushed to Leviathan, fearful that he was about to collapse, for he had turned white as a sheet in a matter of seconds. She broke one of the Feymarch's most sacred rules, and spoke to him without having gained Queen Asura's permission first.

"What is it?" Rydia whispered, grasping his hands in hers. She was shocked to feel an agitated tremor, and realized that it was coming from Leviathan, and not herself.

Leviathan shook his head, and finally brought his gaze to Rydia's. She saw her diminutive form reflected in his cloudy violet eyes, and realized that although he was looking at her – he was not _seeing_ her. Something else had captured his attention.

"No…listen, my dear Rydia, you must leave here at once."

"What?" Rydia blinked. "Why all of a sudden!?" _Can't we even talk about this?_

Asura pressed her fingers to her lips, closing her eyes. Instead of becoming enraged with Rydia like she had been only moments before, she instead offered the summoner a delicate smile.

"There is nothing to fear."

As Asura spoke, she opened her eyes again and reached up, bringing her fingers from her lips to her left temple and resting them there. Unconsciously, Rydia mirrored her, reaching up and brushing her fingers over the ruby hyacinth hairpin that was nestled in the untamed waves of hair that poured down her shoulders in a cascade of emerald.

Leviathan formed a blue orb of light between his cupped hands, and quickly tossed it at Rydia. Before she could run away, she felt the light wash over her, binding her arms and legs to her sides and paralyzing her from the neck down. She opened her mouth to cry out, but was spirited away from the chamber in a flash of blinding light before the scream could even escape her throat.

"What do you want?" Leviathan demanded, and a new figure appeared that had been lurking in the shadows.

A young woman who bore a striking resemblance to Rydia stepped into the light before the king and queen, swathed in a white gossamer gown, her teal hair tumbling over her bare shoulders. She fixated her amber glare on Leviathan, delicately crossing her arms over her chest. Her ruby earrings caught the light of Asura's many dazzling artifacts scattered throughout the chamber and glowed ominously.

"Your power. I am here to take it."

Asura smirked and slid a hand inside her canary-yellow wrap dress that draped across her chest, fluidly withdrawing a scimitar that should have been easily discernible in the tight curves of the fabric hugging her skin, but had instead materialized out of thin air at her command.

"We'll see about that."

The girl tilted her head, the hint of a smile barely curling on her coral lips. "Bahamut is already under our control."

Leviathan gritted his teeth, clenching his fists under the folds of his oversized, tattered robes. "The Hallowed Father of the Eidolons…? Who are you?"

In lieu of answering, she snapped her fingers, and time ceased to exist. The chamber faded into a dark gray hue, washing out the glimmering reflections of the treasures Asura had collected over the millennia and dulling the glow of the magma beneath their feet. Leviathan and Asura were frozen in place, their lips parted in mid-scream and Asura's blade raised in the air.

When she snapped her fingers again, the room exploded in color once more, but the king and queen remained motionless – their bodies had been encased in radiant silver marble, their corporeal forms shackled to the planet in a state of petrification.

* * *

 _Eblan, the morning of the moon's return_

King Edge of Eblan stared listlessly before him, the northern desert winds stinging his eyes. He made no motion to protect his face, daring to not even blink as he slightly shifted his weight to his other foot. He had been standing on the parapet for fifteen minutes, observing the Tower of Babil that was miles away from his tower in the Eblanese castle.

He thought the tower had had a slight glow shrouded around it when he woke up that morning. It had become a torturous habit of his to gaze out the window every morning and immediately seek out the tower – a place where Edge had encountered many horrors in his younger days. The last time he had set foot in it was nearly fifteen years ago, when a mysterious girl had attempted to impersonate Rydia and activate the tower, nearly killing himself, Cecil, Palom and Porom in the process. The _real_ Rydia had managed to save them just in time, defeating the impostor and mitigating any disaster that might have been in the works. Nothing had ever come of those bizarre thirty-six hours – sometimes Edge wondered if he had been trapped in some sort of fever dream and made it all up.

Even though he had known right away that the imposter was not their Rydia, it had still been deeply unnerving to see someone that looked exactly like her with such murderous rage in her eyes, attempting to slaughter them using Rydia's own eidolons as weapons. There had been nights for several weeks after the encounter that Edge would dream of those eyes, and feel Rydia's thighs wrapped around his waist and her delicate white fingers curled on his throat, crushing his windpipe with a half-smile on her lips. He would wake up from the nightmares gasping for air and dripping in perspiration, thankful that he was isolated in his very own tower of the castle – sometimes, he would hear screams tear through the air for several minutes before realizing they were his own.

He oftentimes mused about what would have happened if he too had fallen for the ruse – if he would have still managed to survive the tower or if it would have finally claimed him, just like it had claimed the desecrated remains of his beloved parents – murdered and reanimated as deplorable chimerae during the war.

Just as he was about to give up and start climbing back down from his secret spot, Edge saw a flash of red light out of the corner of his eye. It had only been for a second – but when he turned his head, he had been able to see the tower's normally ivory façade glow a bright red. It now faded back to the gentle glow he had observed upon waking, unnoticeable to anyone else who had not become as obsessed with the tower as himself in the last seventeen years.

 _The Tower of Babil is back…_ Edge frowned. _And with the return of the twin moon…I cannot help but surmise there is a connection…an investigation may be in order._

* * *

 _The Underworld, King Giott's Castle, the morning of the moon's return_

"Do you really have to tinker with that infernal machine all day again?" King Giott leaned his head against his hand, pouting behind the massive orange beard that obscured three-quarters of his face.

"Yes, Father," Luca sighed, reaching up to slide a pale pink visor through her flaming red bob. She had removed it out of respect for her initial address with the king, but figured she had put in her quota of formality for the day. "I've got to get her ready to pick up Rydia from Mist. I promised to take her to the Feymarch, remember?"

"How could I possibly forget that my only daughter, the heir to the entirety of the Underworld and the most powerful woman in the dwarven kingdom, is playing chauffeur to her little girlfriends?"

"Geeze…" Luca shook her head. "You forget how lucky we are to have an airship, Father – and better yet, someone in your kingdom who actually knows what to do with it! _The_ _Falcon_ would rust away into nothing if you had your way. She's a beauty of a ship – still one of the fastest in the world."

"Oh, things would be _a lot_ more different around here if the ruler of this kingdom actually had his way," Giott huffed. "Go on, then…I know every second that you don't have a wrench your hand is agony. Best get all of this engineering nonsense out of your system now – when you're Queen, you're not going to have time for any of that stuff. You'll have to actually rule a kingdom."

"When I'm Queen, I'm taking the Underworld out of the stone age and into the future," Luca smirked, sticking out her tongue. "Just wait and see!"

She was about to turn and leave on that triumphant note, when she was nearly knocked over by a member of the royal guard that had come bursting in the room. Luckily, Luca was no frail damsel, and merely reached up to adjust her visor as the guard apologized and bowed profusely while stumbling backward toward Giott.

"King Giott! The Tower of Babil! It's…!"

"It's what?" Giott stood from his throne so fast that his massive Viking helmet slid down the front of his forehead, covering the rest of his face that his beard didn't already hide.

"It's glowing…! Or at least, it did for a second! I saw it with my very eyes!"

* * *

 _The Overworld, present day_

Ceodore was climbing through filthy, blackened rubble, the soot staining his bare fingers as he threw back slabs of destroyed brick and concrete as effortlessly as one would toss away a pillow. He had summoned the mysterious power that had saved him in the Adamant Isle Grotto, gifting him with inhuman strength that he could see radiating from his flesh in the ethereal moonlight.

At last, he reached the blockaded throne room doors, and forced them open with an ear-splitting bang. As he stumbled inside, the moonlight poured through the decimated cathedral ceilings, shimmering over the two occupied thrones before him.

Cecil and Rosa were collapsed within, their pale faces turned toward each other, eyes closed, their opalescent hair shining in the moonlight and streaked with dust and glittering gravel from the destruction surrounding them.

Rosa's bow-shaped lips were white, a thin trail of ruby-red blood falling from the corner of her mouth and staining the collar of her ivory gown. Her tiara, which Ceodore had only ever seen her wear on special occasions, had been crushed into a twisted mess on the crown of her head in a bed of blackened, sticky blood.

Cecil's hair was nearly covering his entire face, but Ceodore could see the violet bruises that had bloomed upon his neck, with red imprinted patterns crossing between them. His head had fallen against Rosa's, but the only thing holding his body up was the massive pearl-tipped lance that had been thrust into his abdomen, pinning him in place on the throne. Blood had pooled into his lap and spilled long-ago into the rubble below, dyeing it a deep crimson.

"Nooooo!" Ceodore screamed, falling to his knees and pressing his hands to his eyes, as if that would erase the scene before him. "Mother…Father! I…I was too late…"

"Do not mourn for the weak," a cold voice hissed behind him. "Those blessed by the light are the first to fall to the darkness."

Ceodore stifled a sob as he turned his head, seeing nothing. He heard the shuffling of footsteps, and a tall figure obscured in black began to approach through the destroyed threshold Ceodore had climbed through. The harder Ceodore tried to make the person out, the blurrier his vision became – or maybe it was the tears that were relentlessly stinging his eyes.

"This is what you wanted, is it?" the voice taunted, getting louder with each step. "To be free of your father's shadow, to transcend your mother's seemingly boundless grace?"

"No!" Ceodore cried, shaking his head. "I just wanted to make my own way!"

"By denying the very blood that is now spilled before you?" the voice laughed cruelly.

"Sh-show yourself!" Ceodore sniffled. "C-C-Coward!"

There came a flash of black, pulsating light, and Ceodore was tossed into the air, feeling as if his heart was being torn from his chest by an immense gravitational pull. His newfound strength faded as a trail of clouds obscured the moon, plunging him into darkness…

* * *

"AHHHH!"

Ceodore shot up, his head throbbing in protest from the sudden motion as his eyes snapped open, the late-afternoon sun blinding him mercilessly.

 _Wait…the sun? So that was…a dream?_

Ceodore tried to find something – anything – to focus his blurry vision on. Unfortunately, the first thing that came into view was the smoking, smoldering remains of their airship – the frame was almost entirely collapsed in on itself, and chunks of broken wood and engine parts were tossed about with abandon. He was in an open field – with nothing but green stretching on for miles and miles.

As his gaze swept over his surroundings, he realized that contorted limbs were sticking out of some of the piles of debris, and none of them were moving. Feeling a dread clench in his chest, Ceodore started to push himself off the ground when his hand brushed over something cold. Looking to his right, he saw Captain Biggs, lying face-down and covered in scorched armor and streaks of blackened blood.

"Ergh…" Ceodore swallowed the lump in his throat, hesitatingly reaching out and shaking Biggs' shoulder. "Captain Biggs!"

There came no response. Ceodore slid onto his knees, and with much effort, attempted to turn Biggs over. His shoulder throbbed painfully as he struggled to lift the heavy man – his injury from falling on the airship before his mission must had been revived, thanks to gods-only-knew how far he had fallen from the sky when they crashed.

"Captain Biggs…!" Ceodore grunted and finally managed to turn him over. Biggs' body flopped back to the ground, his eyes closed and his face streaked with pink, blistering skin. Ceodore tried not to gag, but the smell of burnt flesh had suddenly assaulted his senses. Ceodore held his breath and tried to take a pulse, but felt nothing after a few minutes of trying.

"You put your life on the line for me…" Ceodore shook his head, the tears spilling for what had felt like the hundredth time that day. "If I…if I was more of a soldier…you wouldn't be like this right now…"

He dropped Biggs' wrist, and stood up, realizing that he also had a limp when he attempted to take his first step. Looking down at his right foot, he saw that his ankle was swelled enough that he could see it through the strained leather of his boot. Sighing, he kept moving forward, favoring his good leg as much as he could manage. He didn't even have enough energy to cast a basic healing spell. He needed to either get a proper rest that didn't involve blacking out, or find some sort of spring or potion that would revive him – both options which seemed impossible in that given moment.

Each body that he encountered was as lifeless as the last. When he finally stumbled upon Wedge, who had been thrown furthest from the wreckage and was the last to be accounted for, Ceodore knew right away that his other superior officer was gone – his neck was twisted in a bizarre angle, and he had died with a tortured grimace on his face.

"He's….he's dead…" Ceodore sniffled out loud, his throat starting to burn from all of the smoke he had inhaled. " _They're_ dead…all of them."

He looked up at the sky, which was a beautiful, perfect blue. There were no more monsters circling the heavens, and the only sounds he could hear now were some meadow-dwelling animals that hadn't been scared away by the crash and the gentle whoosh of an early-evening summer breeze.

 _What am I going to do?_ Ceodore squeezed his eyes shut. _I'm all alone…_ He tried reaching deep down inside himself once more, trying to find comfort in the warm glow he always felt in his chest when he was scared. He focused all of his concentration on remembering his father's promise to always protect him, even when they weren't together.

But he felt nothing – just the cold, hollow thump of his heart as it beat once, twice, three times.

"Ergh…ugh…"

Ceodore held his breath. _What was that?_

"Prince Ceodore…you're still alive…aren't you?"

An atrophied voice barely carried to him. Ceodore whirled around, and was shocked to see Biggs' hand twitch slightly. Despite the painful threats being issued by his ankle, Ceodore ran back to Biggs, falling to his hands and knees while leaning over him. The captain had one eye open, and was shakily lifting his hand to his chest.

"Stop talking!" Ceodore cried, relief flooding through him. "I'll go find somebody to help!" He sat up, cupping his hands over his mouth as he started to shout. "HELP! ANYONE!" His throat became raw and angry with the effort, and soon his shouts turned into exhausted bleating.

Biggs groaned, trying to slowly shake his head. "I'm sorry…I wasn't able to get you back to Baron safely…my prince."

Ceodore ceased shouting into the wind and blinked. _Had he heard that correctly?_ "Captain Biggs?"

"You have to hurry away from here…" Biggs choked out a violent cough, and Ceodore paled when he saw the blood droplets appear on his captain's lips.

"I can't do that, Captain Biggs!" Ceodore whispered, the words grinding against his throat like sandpaper. "I…I'm still just a squire! You can't expect me to…I can't do it on my own!"

Biggs slowly opened his other eye, which had become clouded and red with irritation. _He must have gotten hurt from the smoke_ , Ceodore thought sadly, remembering the feeling of someone's strength enveloping him before he had completely lost conscious. … _Because he was protecting me!_

"Just a squire?" Biggs locked his eyes on Ceodore's, and Ceodore sniffled, but resisted the urge to look away, despite the burning shame on his cheeks from crying in front of the captain. Something in Ceodore's tone had brought Biggs back to when he had been _just_ a squire himself – to his and Wedge's first mission with the Red Wings…

* * *

 _"We are the Red Wings – the pride of Baron! Must we now be thieves, sent to plunder from the weak?"_

Biggs was lamenting out loud – but he was being audacious enough to do it in front of his captain, the renowned Dark Knight Lord Cecil. After what he had seen and done in Mysidia…if Biggs didn't say something to someone, he thought he would implode right there on the ship. How could it have been his dream to become a Red Wing if all it meant was murder and thievery? Had he been misled his whole life about what their righteous king – no, what Baron itself had stood for?

"Enough," Cecil growled, although Biggs could tell he gave the order halfheartedly. Biggs looked to his cousin to back him up, and Wedge winced at the glare in Biggs' eyes, ever the peace-keeper even back then. But that dark and terrible day, the injustices they had witnessed compelled even Wedge to speak.

"But, Lord Captain! The Mysidians offered no resistance! And still, we cut them down."

 _Biggs saw Cecil flinch, even underneath his mountain of ebony armor. It had been the very next day that Cecil had disappeared and King Baron had declared him a traitor – but Biggs knew that something more sinister was afoot. His intuition proved correct, when Cecil had returned to them with allies from all over the world, exposing their king as an impostor – a minion of the sorcerer Golbez._

* * *

 _The past must not repeat itself_ , Biggs thought, the billowing plumes of black smoke rising from Baron replaying through his mind. _Never again must we let Baron roam from the path of virtue – Ceodore must take on King Cecil's mission, if our kingdom has really fallen…The boy must come to realize on his own that this is his fate, no matter how hard he rallies against it._

"Ceodore, listen to me…You must return…to our beloved Baron, no matter the cost. This…is my _final_ order…"

Ceodore pressed his lips together, his fingers nervously tearing into blades of grass beneath him in an effort to distract himself from screaming. He knew what Biggs was trying to say, and he realized it didn't matter how much he cried or what it was that had awakened inside of him in the grotto – nothing was going to change what had happened, and what was happening right now, before his very eyes.

Ceodore stifled a sob. "…Y-yes, sir…!"

"Good…" Biggs turned away, closing his eyes. "…That's what it means to be a knight of the Red Wings…"

"Yes, sir!" Ceodore said, a little louder this time. He could feel his heart pounding relentlessly, punctuating each word that fell from his lips.

"You are the last…of the Red Wings, Ceodore…" Biggs smiled slightly as he thought back to the impassioned speech he made to his own captain, nearly seventeen years ago. Of course, that mission had ended up not being the death of his dream…but rather, just an auspicious start to what had become his greatest assignment ever – protecting his beloved homeland and serving under one of the men he admired most in the world…and even being able to live long enough to mentor his progeny, even if it was only for twenty-four hours.

Biggs rested his fingertips right below his heart, his knuckles raw and bloody from the burns that had consumed him in Ceodore's place. "…We, the Red Wings…are the greatest airship fleet in the skies…the pride of Baron! My orders…are the law…to you…!"

Ceodore nodded even though Biggs could no longer see him, clenching his fists so tightly that his fingernails left crescent moon-shaped dents in his skin. He watched Biggs' fingers slacken as he drew his last breath, the peaceful smile never leaving his lips. Ceodore slowly stood up, bringing his first to his chest and laying it over his heart to mirror Biggs. He bowed his head and allowed his tears to fall for what he vowed to be the final time, hearing their distinct patter as they fell upon Biggs' chest plate, leaving a trail of watery soot in their wake.

"I, Ceodore, of the Red Wings of Baron…will now return to Baron, sir!"

* * *

Hours later, Ceodore feared that his parting words to his captain had been nothing more than insolent deception for which he was going to end up burning in hell.

For one thing – the prince had realized that he was completely, hopelessly lost. He had buried his anxiety about exploring the destroyed airship, telling himself that something salvageable could be found and that all of the crew had been (unfortunately) accounted for outside – but all he managed to procure were a few bottles of potion that had miraculously not been destroyed, and a bronze buckler that he could strap on his arm for a meager line of defense against whatever was waiting for him beyond the meadow. There was no sign of a map or a compass, and the scope he had been holding to observe Baron was long-gone as well.

All he could do was force himself to follow the horizon – with the sun setting in the west and Baron also in that direction, it was the only rational decision he felt he could make. But the scenery around him never seemed to change – endless fields of green randomly dotted with bright wildflowers or towering, twisting weeds that snagged his skin with their spines if he came too close made for poor landmarks.

He grimly comforted himself by realizing that even if he had had a map, he wouldn't have known what to do with it – he had no idea what continent he was on.

The second pressing issue was the matter of his injuries. He had reluctantly swallowed down one potion to give himself the strength to climb into the Red Wings' wreckage, but it had barely restored him to a waking state, let alone aid in alleviating the pain volleying between his shoulder and his ankle. He hesitated to use his other precious potions, lest the unthinkable happened and he was attacked by a monster.

Ceodore knew it was a generous assumption that he had made it more than a couple miles away from the crash site, and with darkness threatening to fall with each new step, he would soon either need to find shelter or accept that he would be hiding away the night in his sleeping bag, which had thankfully stayed on his person throughout the entire ordeal.

 _Mother and Father have to be alive,_ Ceodore told himself over and over again. _They are the strongest people I know…they wouldn't give in to anyone – or any beast – attacking Baron. My dream was just that – not a premonition. No matter how real it felt…_

"Grrr…"

Ceodore looked up from where he had been vacantly staring at the grass, his eyes wide with panic. The sounds of random field mice chattering and skittering about that had filled the daytime had been replaced by croaking and the ominous rustling of tall grass. Ceodore watched as a bloom of thistle weed parted a few feet away from him, revealing a Goblin and a Gatlinghog, which appeared to be the bigger, more brightly-colored surface-dwelling cousin of the Sword Rats he had to slay in the Adamant Isle Grotto.

The Goblin snickered and raised his blade, which was chipped in several places but still looked like it would _really_ hurt if one were to be run through with it.

The Gatlinghog let out a threatening hiss, the spikes on its back gleaming even in the failing sunlight as they protruded and aimed right for Ceodore's chest.

"I haven't time for you!" Ceodore snapped, drawing his blade and flinching as he took a threatening step forward, not wanting to give the monsters any indication that he was weakened. With a hard swing, he drove his blade into the Goblin's hip, nearly tearing the little horror in half and spraying the Gatlinghog with its blood. The Gatlinghog hissed louder at this affront, but started to back away, baring its tiny, pointed teeth.

"That's right!" Ceodore smirked. "There's plenty more where that came from!"

A warm, wet rush of air suddenly hit Ceodore's neck, and he frowned, glancing back over his shoulder quickly as to not let the Gatlinghog out of his sight. A broad-limbed, flaming dog was pawing at the ground behind him, turning the grass and weeds underneath its belly black as they sparked with fire and then quickly burnt themselves out, smothered by the lack of oxygen beneath the beast's undercarriage.

"What…!?" Ceodore gasped, stumbling backwards. The Gatlinghog took the opportunity to turn tail and flee through the meadow, now that _real_ threat had revealed itself.

The dog growled and bared its fangs, which glowed like the freshly soldered blades a weapon smith would craft over his forge.

Snapping its jaws at Ceodore, there was another rush of hot air, and a whirlwind of flames surrounded the hapless prince, raining fiery debris upon him and trapping him in a circle of fire.

"No!" he cried, raising his buckler to shield his head and choking on the smoke that was quickly filling his lungs. He shakily reached up, trying to tug his scarf over his mouth with his other hand as his eyes watered. His head began to take on the same star-struck sensation he had felt before the crash – like his brain was melting into itself from the heat. Closing his eyes, he thought of the smoke curling over Baron, and of everyone that was waiting for him to come home. Cecil…Rosa…Cid… _Biggs and Wedge_ …!

 _I'm a member of the Red Wings…I can't let it end like this!_

There was a powerful rush of adrenaline that burst in Ceodore's lungs, rushing through his failing limbs at the speed of light…

* * *

"Come on, you bastard…" the man tsked as he clenched his jaw, pulling back slightly harder on the rod and gingerly taking in the reel. The rod started to bend deeply, and with a triumphant leap in the air, the fish freed itself and swam away to sweet freedom.

"Damn!" he sighed, tossing the rod behind him and giving a hard kick to the beach, sending a rush of sand flying. He had never been good at fishing, and could probably count on one hand the number of times he had actually attempted it – but he thought finding the abandoned rod at the beach had been a sign of good fortune. With no money and nothing on him except for the clothes on his back and his blade, he was going to have to hunt his dinner – if there was anything even remotely edible in the meadows across the way. Otherwise, he would need to trek all the way back to the forest, which was not the favorable option with the twilight coming on fast. All he had wanted to do was get some food, finish his business in Mysidia, and be on his way to the horrors that were to come. Was that really too much to ask?

He eyed the fishing rod, wondering how much gil he would get for it if he tried to pawn it off in town. Possibly enough for at least a drink to help lure him to sleep, which was more tempting than he thought was healthy.

As he bent down to retrieve the discarded rod, he saw a blinding flash of light abruptly shoot down from the sky, crashing into the meadow he had just debated hunting in. Furrowing his brow, he stood back up, forgetting about the rod and his aching, empty stomach as he found his feet carrying him toward the disruption.

 _That resplendent light…I feel like I've seen something like it somewhere before…long, long ago._

He ran from the pebble-ridden beach into the folds of the meadow, drawing his sword and slashing at the unwieldy plants that would hinder his path, lest he lose sight of where the pillar of light had appeared. He was stunned when he came upon a clearing that contained a young man, surely no more than sixteen years old, collapsed to his knees and faintly glowing with the same light he had seen fall from the sky. The man felt an abrupt, unsettling pang in his chest as he searched the boy's face – like he had been forced to remember a painful, but still-cloudy memory. He lifted his hand to his heart for a moment, marveling at how furiously it was hammering against his fingers.

Before the boy was a fully-grown Flamebeast, pawing at the ground in frustration and trying to charge at his prey, only to be continuously beaten back by the light.

But the man could tell the boy was fading fast, and the light surrounding him was growing dimmer with each passing second – it would only be a matter of time before the Flamebeast was successful in breaking through the magical barrier.

Taking a flying leap into the air, the man drove his blade into the Flamebeast's neck from above, severing it from its body with one clean stroke. Before the discarded head could even hit the ground, the monster burst into a pile of dusty ash that mingled with the burned remains of the meadow beneath it.

Straightening himself, the man looked to the boy, who had promptly collapsed face-first onto the ground. The light receded, and he could swear that the boy's hair had changed colors before his eyes – fading from a frosty blue to champagne-tinted platinum. His pale, slender hand began to twitch in the grass.

* * *

Ceodore moaned, reaching blindly into his pouch at his hip until he could feel his fingers wrap around the neck of a potion. He pulled it out, pushing himself up by his elbows and tossing it back sloppily, some of the pink liquid splashing down his chin and absorbing into his scarf. Feeling his strength return to him and reveling in the relief that the divine light had brought his injuries, he sat up, taking a better look his savior.

It was a tall man – he might have even been taller than his father – dressed in a faded blue cotton shirt that had been hastily tucked into a taupe leather belt with matching breeches that were pleated into scuffed knee-high leather boots. A lavender cape was wrapped around his shoulders and head as a hood, flowing behind him and dusty and tattered from where it dragged on the ground. Locks of long, corn silk hair were hanging loose over his face, the rest pulled into a messy knot that was hidden behind his neck.

Ceodore could see the man's clear blue eyes searching his, a mixture of bemusement and curiosity shining within. He didn't understand why, but the look on his face reminded him so much of his father that it made his heart ache.

"Still alive?" the man asked with a deep, almost courtly inflection, and Ceodore nodded.

"Yes…Thank you…" He climbed to his feet, but stumbled forward, a head rush washing over him. The hooded man stepped forward, sheathing his sword in one fluid sweep into the scabbard that hung at his slender hip.

"Are you all right? You didn't look completely useless back there, but…taking on a monster like that is suicidal."

"I'll be OK," Ceodore said, flushing slightly. It wasn't like he had _wanted_ to fight the Flamebeast, after all. "I must get back to Baron, no matter the cost."

"With no airship?" the man asked, tilting his head. He had asked it merely out of curiosity, having suspected that the boy was perhaps lost or touched in the head, but Ceodore couldn't help but feel as if he was being interrogated for a trial. He knew he was exhausted, and that he should have been grateful to his savior, but his distress revealed itself in his reply anyway. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking away.

"Yes! Even with no airship! I am a member of the Red Wings of Baron. I don't need an airship to lay claim to that."

"Ah..." the man nodded, as if that explained everything. Ceodore blinked.

"You've heard of them?"

"'Who hasn't heard of them' would be a better question. That's the most famous unit in Baron's military. You'd best be careful if you are to travel without a ship, though. The monsters are restless ever since the trouble..."

Ceodore shook his head, not understanding. He glanced over his shoulder, curiosity getting the better of him. "Trouble?"

The hooded man smiled slightly. "Don't tell me that you don't know. The war that raged across this land, once...back in those times, the monsters were out of control, had finally come into their own, one could say. Ever since they were pushed back into the darkness by the revived light of the crystals, they've been biding their time, waiting for the planet's conditions to favor them once more…this feels just like back then…You're too young to remember, I suppose."

Ceodore frowned. "Yes, I know of what you speak. My mother and father have often told me about it. As for the monsters…" He bit his lip as he thought about the Red Wings; mere miles away in what had become their impromptu grave sites. "…I'm too aware of the havoc they can cause when agitated."

The man looked away thoughtfully, tapping his chin with his finger. He could tell by the anguish in the boy's eyes that he had struck a nerve, and he felt awful for it. There was something painfully raw in the boy's tone that he recognized from having experienced such anguish within himself – something frightful had happened to this boy, and it had been recent.

 _He says he's a Red Wing, but…really; he's still just a child. He'll never make it to Baron on his own without a ship. Even with that light protecting him…I fear for the worst. Maybe there was a reason why I haven't left this dreadful place yet…perhaps I was meant to see that light…_

He had made up his mind – he couldn't leave the boy on his own – to do so would be sentencing him to death. "You know, we can reach Baron from Mysidia, in the west."

Ceodore let out a surprised gasp, turning to fully face the man once again. So…they were near Mysidia – the sacred city of mages. He knew his father had visited there many times, long ago. Quite possibly, Cecil still had friends there as well. It was still far away from home, but…it was at least a location on a map. "Is there a ship there?"

The man shook his head. "Something even better than that. I'm coming along with you."

"Are you sure?" Ceodore asked, although he didn't bother hiding the note of hopefulness that had lifted his voice. _I don't want to be alone anymore…even a complete stranger is better than…well, this. I know I should be more careful, but…I can't help it – he reminds me so much of Father...and he saved my life – without even knowing who I was._

 _And wasn't that what I wanted? For people to see me, and not the Prince of Baron?_

The man nodded. "I have business of my own in Baron. Urgent business. I was on my way there when I saw you fighting."

Ceodore smiled. That was good enough for him. "I..." he began to properly introduce himself, but paused, the man watching him patiently.

Ceodore looked down at his feet. No, perhaps he shouldn't be so quick to reveal his true identity…there had been a reason Baron had been attacked, after all, even if he didn't understand what it was yet. It would have to be enough for now to remain as just a Red Wing and not as a member of the royal family. Finally, Ceodore stuck out his hand, and offered a smile. "My name is Ceodore. And you are...?"

The hooded man shook his head dismissively, but still took Ceodore's hand, grasping it tightly. "I don't have a name...I abandoned it long ago." He dropped the boy's hand and blew a lock of hair away that had fallen into his eyes.

"Huh?" Ceodore blinked. "What…what am I supposed to call you, then?"

"I will answer to most anything," he said. "In a pinch, 'Hey you' will suffice. Weren't you in a hurry just now?"

Ceodore sighed. He was right, of course. This was no time for semantics, although with the way the day had been going, it would have been nice to be sure of at least one thing, even if it was as minor as knowing your rescuer's name.

The hooded man gestured for Ceodore to follow him, and Ceodore realized as they left the clearing that he could pick up the distinct taste of salt in the air. Moments later, they were at a small beach, and the hooded man was swiping an old fishing pole that had been abandoned in the sand.

"Are we catching dinner?" Ceodore asked hopefully, realizing that his stomach had begun to knot with hunger pangs. It had been the first time tonight that he hadn't had to think about either being lost or getting killed, which meant he could now focus on how hungry and thirsty he was. If he had been back home, he probably would have been sitting down to a massive banquet by now, thrown in his honor (much to his embarrassment). His father, who had never been good with handling his spirits, would probably be laughing drunkenly as Wedge told the table how much Ceodore was or wasn't like Cecil when he had taken his own trial, and his mother would be hugging him and fussing with his unruly hair every five minutes, her anger vanished about Ceodore's reckless decision to recruit now that he had come home to her a true knight. Cid would ask Ceodore about the most important details of the mission – how were the Red Wings running? Did he notice any slowdown or rust? Did he need to tune up any of the ships?

Ceodore would have been miserable the entire time – but at that moment, he realized he would have given anything in the world to go back to that old life.

"Unless you're any good at using this thing, then no," the man replied, interrupting Ceodore's daydream. Ceodore pouted, his stomach rumbling in protest. He had never picked up a fishing pole in his life…seemed like weird hobby for a prince to have…but he supposed the man had no way of knowing that, after all…

The man swung the pole over his shoulder. "If you're hungry, we'll sell it in town and get something to eat."

"I'm starving," Ceodore admitted. "But I'm sorry to say I don't have any money…"

"We'll manage, don't worry," his companion replied. "Come – Mysidia is just a few minutes' walk from here."

They walked to the village gates in silence, Ceodore taking in every detail he could about their surroundings before the darkness became too great for him to see. He was amazed at how even the air of this continent had felt so different from Baron's – Baron had always smelled earthy and sweet, especially after a long rain, due to the heavy forestry surrounding the village and the lakes that dotted the countryside leading up to the Mist Caverns. The Mysidia region smelled salty and clean, with the drifting scent of wildflowers from the meadows carrying over to them thanks to the near-constant sea breeze. Now that the sun had set, the air had turned deliciously cold, the kind of temperature that was perfect for sleeping with the windows open – weather of which Baron only had a short period of in early Spring and early Fall.

As they crossed the gates to officially enter Mysidia proper, which were thrown wide-open and lit with dazzling iron lanterns, Ceodore couldn't help but marvel at the villagers still bustling about in the streets this late in the evening – nearly all of them were dressed in the traditional garb of black and white mages. It wasn't like the streets of Baron, where most folk weren't magically inclined and the rare appearance of a mage outside the castle sent everyone into an excited tizzy. The town's atmosphere was alight with that indescribable vitality that crackled in the air whenever powerful magicians were in the same vicinity together. Ceodore would feel that same energy whenever he entered one of the magic labs in Baron Castle, and sometimes even when he would watch his mother cast spells of her own – the abundance of spiritual energy that would envelope her in an ethereal aura was itself a miracle to behold – even Ceodore could understand why his father seemed to fall in love with her all over again when she cast something as simple as a Cure spell.

The hooded man paused as they crossed onto the main drag of the village, pointing ahead of them. "The Hall of Prayer is at the north end of the town. When we're ready, someone there can break the seal for us."

"The seal?"

"Yes...the seal blocking the way to the Devil's Road."

 _The Devil's Road…_ Ceodore chewed on his lower lip. _…Doesn't exactly sound better than an airship._

The man looked over at Ceodore, smiling a little. "Do not fear. You'll feel better about it after we have something to eat. Let me see what I can get for this." He held up the rod, and gestured toward the sundries shop a few yards away from them. While he went inside to strike a deal, Ceodore waited outside the shop, leaning back against the cool brick wall and gazing up at the sky. A swath of clouds had rolled in, blocking most of the moon's light, as well as many of the stars. Ceodore thought that despite the cover, the waning moon seemed bigger and brighter than usual.

A pair of black mages was coming out of the pub to Ceodore's left, talking louder than one normally would – Ceodore suspected that they had had their fill of drink for the night and were heading home to sleep it off.

"What do you think that tremendous sound was that came from the east?" one of them hiccuped. "It was so loud; I thought we were having an earthquake."

"I thought maybe I had had too much to drink. Maybe it was that swarm of monsters that were flying northwest – that's where Baron is, right?"

"You couldn't pay me to go to Baron right now – this is all a little too sinister to me. Thank the gods the Elder had the foresight to seal the Devil's Road once again – hic!"

Ceodore's ears perked up. He was considering following the mages to see if they would say anything else of interest, when a voice spoke up behind him, making him jump two feet in the air in surprise.

"I had heard that sound as well while I was making my way to Mysidia… it's the hot gossip of the day here. Did you happen hear it while you were wandering around?"

Ceodore whirled around, coming face-to-face with the hooded man. The fishing pole was gone, but had been replaced in his hand by a small sack of gil.

"Um…" Ceodore looked away. "Yes, I heard it..." He tried to change the subject – he wasn't ready to talk about the Red Wings yet. "But did you hear what they said about the Devil's Road…? Why would they seal it so suddenly? Do they think that Baron will be overrun with monsters and that they'll come here…?"

The hooded man frowned. Ceodore's voice had started to shake as he spoke, and he could see that his young companion was becoming nervous. The discord in Ceodore's heart would do him no good on the Devil's Road – he needed to find a way to calm him down.

"Baron is one of the most powerful countries in the world," the man offered. "And its rulers are two warriors who once saved the world from the brink of disaster. As a member of the Red Wings, you should know better than anyone that Baron wouldn't fall so easily. However, it doesn't surprise me that the Elder would take precautions to protect his people if rumors are running rampant that something has happened on the other side of the Devil's Road – wouldn't you do the same?"

"I…" Ceodore sighed. "I guess I _would_ do the same. I would protect my people no matter what, if I were in his shoes."

"Of course you would," the man nodded. "That's why you're a knight, after all. Now, I've managed to get us enough money for a decent dinner – let's get something in our stomachs, and see if we can get any more information before going to the Tower of Prayer."

Ceodore nodded, and followed the man inside the pub next door. Compared to the relative peace outside, the pub was jostling with activity, tables filled with yet more mages eating and drinking their way through the menu, with others playing games with stacks of gil of varying sizes in front of each participant. They found a two-top table stashed away in a corner, and quickly took their seats before someone could snag it from underneath their noses. Dim candlelight was all they had to read the sparse menu by, but Ceodore just let his companion do the ordering – he had no idea how much money they actually had, and he realized with dismay that he didn't recognize most of the items on the menu anyway. Never in Ceodore's life had he ever needed to think about eating a meal outside of Baron and what that would be like. He supposed that would have eventually changed when he joined the Red Wings, but…there would probably never be another mission for him to go on after this…

After their order had been placed, the hooded man leaned back in his chair, and Ceodore realized that he was trying to listen in on the conversation that was occurring next to them. A group of three mages were sitting together, nursing glasses of mead that were as big as their heads. Ceodore leaned his cheek against his hand, pretending to stare at the flickering candlelight as he tried to hone in on the conversation as well.

"Did you notice the sky before the clouds came in tonight? There's two moons up there again…no warning whatsoever…"

"And of course it had to happen while Lord Palom was gone…not that I think he would have actually done anything about it, but…the Elder would have made him take some sort of action. Where did he go, anyway?"

"I heard Palom was dispatched to Troia, the little scamp! Ugh, I couldn't be more envious of him if I tried…that town is packed with beauties!"

There was a sigh of dismay from the one female mage in the group, and the others tittered. Ceodore's eyes met the hooded man's, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing.

 _Two moons?_

Ceodore had known that their planet had once had two moons before he was born – the lecture he had received from the pig in Mythril about the disappearing moon was not new information to him. His own parents, along with their best friend Kain, who disappeared shortly after the war had ended, a summoner named Rydia, and the then-Prince of Eblan, Edge Geraldine, had traveled to that very moon to defeat the Lunarian that was threatening to destroy human life on their planet so that he could take it for his own. His name had been Zemus – and Cecil had told Ceodore that he was a Lunarian who had not wanted to sleep and wait for evolution's due course to live among the people of the Blue Planet – he thought himself a superior being and had done many terrible things in attempt to conquer their home. Zemus had also been the master of the sorcerer Golbez, a citizen of the Blue Planet who had been brainwashed into executing the critical spokes of his plan, including stealing the eight crystals of the Blue Planet and using them to open a pathway to the moon so that Zemus could unleash weapons of mass destruction upon their planet and attempt mass genocide.

Cecil and Rosa never talked about Golbez much, but Ceodore had heard through rumors from others who were more apt to gossip that Golbez had been Cecil's nemesis, and that he had put Cecil and Rosa through immense physical and mental anguish during the war. Ceodore supposed it had to have been really awful if his parents couldn't even speak of it, and he respected them too deeply to ever ask. It was all in the past, and he felt as if there were no point to making his parents relive it, no matter how intense his curiosity was at times.

After Cecil, Rosa, Kain, Rydia and Edge had come home, victorious – the moon had mysteriously left the planet's orbit, never to be seen again. Ceodore had never had much interest in the moon – not even after his father had revealed their own Lunarian heritage to him as a young child – but he would often catch Cecil gazing dreamily in the nighttime sky, as if he were looking for something – or someone, lost to him forever. Ceodore knew during those moments, his father's body may have been on their planet, but his mind was light years away – possibly back on that very moon with his people.

Most citizens of the Blue Planet did not know the true purpose of the moon – that it housed Cecil and Ceodore's sleeping, peaceful Lunarian ancestors – but since it had disappeared when the war had ended, and had been the home base of Zemus, most people now associated it with a bad omen when they told stories of it. That was why it had come to no surprise to Ceodore and the hooded man that the return of a twin moon had inspired panic among their fellow diners.

But had the Lunarians really returned…? It seemed rather unlikely that humans had evolved enough to match the Lunarians after a scant seventeen years…and Zemus was gone forever…right?

"If something were to happen, Porom would protect us," the woman mage continued. "It may not seem like it since she does not know black magic, but it is better that she is here, rather than that brother of hers – she's much more level-headed and sane."

"And if we needed muscle, we could always call upon that dragoon that is rumored to be holed up in Mount Ordeals," one of her companions added. "That is, if anyone was daring enough to climb Mount Ordeals to see if he was real or not."

"I'm sure that rumor was started to see just how idiotic some people are," the woman huffed. " _Anyone_ who has half a brain knows Mount Ordeals is a death sentence. No one – not even a dragoon – could survive. Palom and Porom were only spared because they were with the light's chosen one. Had they been by themselves, I fear they would have been lost to us as children. I still cannot believe, even all this time later, that the Elder deemed it appropriate for them to go."

They started veering into gossip about other villagers, and Ceodore and the hooded man lost interest. Their food arrived, and they ate and drank silently, both contemplating about what they had heard.

 _The return of a second moon…monsters attacking Baron…and the destruction of the Red Wings…there must be a common thread that ties these events together…but what is it? And how are my parents involved?_

 _It cannot be a coincidence that the twin moon has returned to us the same night I saw that divine light shine from the sky…and certainly more so with battle I fought the other day…something is in motion that I cannot yet comprehend…still, I must get to Baron, at any cost. I fear I will not be my assailant's final victim…_

The hooded man stole a glance at Ceodore, who hadn't noticed anything amiss – he was too busy draining his glass of water.

 _And just what was that power Ceodore displayed before…? It didn't look like any magic I've ever seen…There was something strangely familiar about him when he was bathed in that light…familiar, and sorrowful…_

When they finished eating, the hooded man paid their tab, leaving the entirety of the sack of gil on the table. As they exited to make their way to the Tower of Prayer, Ceodore let out a sigh of contentment.

"Thank you so much…I don't think food has ever tasted that good before."

"It was my pleasure," the man replied. "I'd forgotten how quickly a teenage boy can eat…that entertainment alone was worth the price of admission." Ceodore laughed and rubbed the back of his head with some embarrassment. He supposed he had been a little uncouth, practically tilting his entire plate into his mouth once it had appeared before him. It wasn't very princely, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Well, I am fifteen. But I'm not that rude all the time – I promise! And when we get to Baron, I'll pay you back doubly for the meal. You have my word."

"Fifteen, and already a Red Wing?" the hooded man raised his eyebrows. "You really must be something special."

Ceodore's face suddenly fell, and he looked away, much to the man's surprise.

"No…I'm not…"

At the Tower of Prayer, they were greeted by a white mage who was lighting the torches by the entryway when they arrived. She looked up at them, and did not bother hiding her distaste when she saw that neither of the visitors were fellow mages.

"Are you lost?" she asked, and Ceodore flushed.

"No…is there anyone here who can help us unseal the Devil's Road?"

The white mage raised her eyebrows, trying not to laugh.

"My child…the Devil's Road is a path that transcends dimensions...and puts you face to face with evil itself. Those who dare to set foot in it must be prepared to pay the ultimate price for their courage. You are inquiring about THAT Devil's Road?"

"Yes," Ceodore said through gritted teeth. "Can someone here help me, or not?"

She shrugged, but stepped aside to let them through the carved marble double doors. "I don't know if anyone WILL help you, but you can certainly try. Have a good night."

Ceodore pushed the doors open without another word, and stomped inside. The hooded man nodded to the white mage, who blushed slightly as she watched him shut the doors behind them.

Ceodore found himself in a brightly lit great hall, with a hallway to his left that appeared to lead to a classroom set-up, with several desks and chairs scattered about, and numerous blackboards lined up against the wall. Some smudged with lessons that had been erased and others filled from top to bottom with long strings of words and phrases that Ceodore couldn't even read. To their right, another hall split off into what looked like a dormitory – and there was at least one person in bed, being tended to by another white mage. Ceodore could hear them talking quietly, their voices carrying down to the otherwise empty audience chamber. Above them, several crystal chandeliers were weighed down with lighted candles that made rainbow prisms dance across the pale ivory sandstone walls.

The hooded man nodded toward the classroom. "I'm going to take a look over there. Why don't you talk to the white mage? You seem to have a way with them."

Ceodore made a face – was that _sarcasm?_ – And approached the young woman, who looked up at him with much kinder eyes than the other white mage who had greeted him. She pulled the blankets over her charge in the bed, and pressed a finger to her lips.

"The Elder's health has been taking a turn for the worse...It would be greatly appreciated if you could keep it quiet. We can talk in the hall if you have a question."

The man in the bed, presumably the Elder, suddenly opened his eyes, and let out a strained gasp when they fell upon Ceodore.

"Oh...it's you, Ceodore...You've grown into such a fine man."

Ceodore blinked. If he were being perfectly honest, he couldn't precisely remember the man before him. He thought that perhaps once, long ago, an older man with a similar pointed chin and a long, gray and braided beard had visited Baron from Mysidia and met him while he was visiting with Cecil and Rosa. But the man before him's hair was as white as snow, his beard trimmed to just below his chin, and he looked as if he had aged one-hundred years. His cheeks were frightfully gaunt, and his skin so pale that Ceodore could see the tiny traces of blue veins running beneath.

"Elder…you once visited Baron with Palom and Porom, right?" Ceodore asked hesitantly. "Are you sick, sir?"

The Elder nodded, but tried to smile, although he wasn't very successful. "Me? Oh, don't worry. I'm not that quite bad yet...I am more concerned about you."

Ceodore had an involuntary shiver, even though it was blazing warm in the dormitory. "What do you mean, Elder?"

The Elder sighed, closing his eyes – as if he had to summon all of his energy just to speak. "Please, please be careful...I have heard the moon is two once more...You must hurry to Cecil's side! That is why you are here, right?"

Ceodore bit down on his lip. "…Is something wrong with my father?"

The Elder began to cough so loudly that Ceodore could hear a rattle in his throat as he inhaled, gasping for breath. Frightened, he looked to the white mage, who was already jumping into action – she had grabbed a glass of ice water from a tray nearby, and was tilting it to the Elder's lips as she murmured a healing spell. She looked up at Ceodore with a sad smile, and shook her head, which he knew was her way of gently dismissing him.

Ceodore turned away, trying to banish the tears that were creeping into the corners of his eyes. _I told myself I wouldn't cry anymore…that I shed my last tears for Biggs! The Elder will be OK…my parents are OK...I just have to keep telling myself that…!_

He and the hooded man met back in the great hall, both shaking their heads to indicate their lack of findings. There came the sound of gentle footsteps, and a young woman appeared before them on the stairwell that was to their north. She looked surprised at the two visitors, slowing her advance as Ceodore noticed her grasping the railing a little tighter in her jewel-adorned fingers.

She had light pink hair that was swept into a high ponytail that hung mid-way past her shoulders. She wore a pink transparent romper that came down to her thighs, her shoulders wrapped in a white cloak and maroon bracers running up her wrists and forearms. Pink and rose-striped leggings ran up the length of her legs, and matching pink leather sandals that laced around her ankles clicked down the final steps as she paused in front of Ceodore and the hooded man, having now reached the great hall.

Ceodore could feel his cheeks flushing to match the new arrival's hair, clothes – well, everything. She was gorgeous – and her bright brown eyes were focused directly on this, her red mouth set in a dubious line. Ceodore cleared his throat. "Um...pardon me. Is there anyone here who can unseal the Devil's Road for us?"

The woman blinked, reaching up and unconsciously playing with an emerald earring that was dangling from her lobe. "Someone who knows of the Devil's Road? Who are you?"

"I am Ceodore, of the Red Wings of Baron."

The woman broke out into an unexpected smile – it was like the sun had risen upon her face. She did a little jump, and threw her arms around Ceodore, pulling him tightly against her. Ceodore could feel his body temperature reach a fever-pitch as his face was forced to nuzzle into her neck, as smooth and delightful as it was. "It's _you_! Heavens, you've certainly grown, haven't you?"

Ceodore squirmed awkwardly, wondering what to do with his hands. Finally, he settled on resting them precariously on the middle of her back, blushing deeper as they brushed her silky ponytail. "You...know me?"

Behind him, he could swear he heard the hooded man snicker.

The woman pulled back, giggling. Ceodore dropped his hands to his sides, a cool wave of relief washing over him even as his body simultaneously longed to hug her again. "Of course you don't remember me. We haven't met since you were a very, very young child."

Ceodore blinked. "So you are...?"

"I am Porom, white mage of Mysidia." She gave a curtsy, and the light bulb went off in Ceodore's frazzled brain. _Ding!_

" _You're_ Porom? My parents have told me so much about you. I seem to remember your hair being a different color…I'm sorry I didn't recognize you earlier. I can't believe someone as famous as you even remembers me."

Porom blushed, waving her hand embarrassedly. "The hair…well, it's a long story. Something perhaps to share another day."

The hooded man cocked an eyebrow. Ceodore must have had friends in high places if he had once met the twin prodigies of Mysidia. Or perhaps he had trained with them at one point – he knew that Palom, and his twin sister Porom, traveled all over the world by request to work with students of magic. They were Mysidia's most famous citizens, after all, and their skills were in high-demand. Baron had always taken pride in their magical defense and offense capabilities – it would not have been unusual for the twins to be there at some point to give a lesson if a rich enough noble family wanted to pay for the privilege.

Porom rested her hand on her hip. "So why do you want to use the Devil's Road? You said you were with the Red Wings. Did you not come here by airship?"

Ceodore lowered his head. He had anticipated that this question was probably going to come up – he couldn't dance around it with Porom as he had with the hooded man. If he wanted to travel the Devil's Road, he would have to come clean about what had happened to him. Besides…Porom was his father's friend – and had even been an ally that traveled with him as a child. Ceodore realized that because of that very fact, he felt he could trust her with the truth. He tried to control the tremor in his voice as he replied.

"My airship was brought down...by a horde of monsters. Before we crashed, we saw smoke coming from Baron's direction…that's why I have to get home as soon as possible…"

The hooded man brought his hand to his mouth, in attempt to mask his surprise. So that had been why Ceodore was in such rough shape when he found him… _to survive an incident such as that, and all alone…was he forced to watch his entire crew die?_

Porom frowned, shaking her head. "I knew it...That would explain the unease I've been feeling lately. Ceodore…I am so sorry."

"Will you help us?" Ceodore asked quietly. Porom reached out and gently brushed aside some of Ceodore's dirty, matted hair. The way her fingers stroked him had an almost maternal air…Ceodore's stomach clenched as he thought about his own mother. What was she doing right now? _Was she safe?_ He knew his father would protect her, but…who was protecting him?

"Of course I'll help you, dear. But if I may be frank, you look exhausted. I must warn you, the pathway wasn't named the Devil's Road for humor's sake. It'll be a rough road to plow by yourselves, I fear, especially in your current condition. I want you to rest here for the night and regain your strength. I will find someone that can help guide you two tomorrow, and you can leave right at dawn."

"You can't come with us?" Ceodore warily asked. He hated how he sounded like such a child, but having one of the most powerful white mages in the world at their side would have been a boon and would get them to Baron that much faster.

"I'd go with you, but I can't leave the Hall of Prayer empty right now – not with the Elder not feeling his best." Porom's lips twisted in disappointment as she embraced Ceodore again, but this time, he simply fell into it – it was as if Porom's spoken observation made him realize just how tired he really was – he was simply too drained to be embarrassed anymore. "I know you're in a hurry – but I assure you, if you try to make it to Baron like this, you'll just be slowed down, or worse, get hurt. Will you and your...friend stay in the tower tonight?" Porom glanced up at the hooded man as she asked, and he just smiled in reply. "There are a few beds in the upper spire we can spare."

"I think it's a good idea, Ceodore," the man said gently, and Ceodore just nodded into Porom's chest.

"Wonderful," Porom smiled, and patted Ceodore's shoulder. "If you go up these stairs, you'll pass through the crystal chamber and find a door behind the dais. There will be some rooms in there that you can sleep in. If you continue up the stairs, you'll be taken to the room of prayer. Let's meet back in the great hall tomorrow morning when you are ready to go, all right?"

"Thank you," Ceodore nodded, and pulled away. "Good night, Porom."

"Good night, Ceodore." She watched as Ceodore climbed up the stairs behind her and disappeared. Turning to the hooded man, she tilted her head and pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, we were never properly introduced. And you would be...?"

He shrugged. "No one you know, I don't think. Thank you for helping Ceodore. I'll ensure that he makes safe passage tomorrow."

"Oh, well…" Porom blinked, but her instincts told her to just let it go. If Ceodore trusted him, then she supposed it was none of her business. "…Goodnight, then."

* * *

 _"Tick…tock…tick…tock…"_

Ceodore turned to his other side for what felt like the millionth time that night, and opened his eyes. Try as he might, he simply could not get back to sleep. A troubling nightmare that he couldn't recall the details of had shaken him awake, and now even the ancient clock in the corner of the room sounded so loud that he expected the bed to shake with each passing stroke of the clock's hands. Outside the window, he could see that the world was still immersed in the darkness of night. Sitting up, he swung his legs out of the bed and shuffled outside in his leggings and tunic, not taking note of the empty bed across from him.

Ceodore climbed the stairs in the hall that Porom had said led to the room of prayer. As he neared the top, he overheard the conversations of two mages that were ensconced inside, and paused before he reached the threshold. His footsteps had been so light thanks to his bare feet that they didn't notice anyone had arrived.

"The second moon's return…it portends ominous things."

"This moon seems remarkably different from the one before. What could it all mean?"

"I caught Lady Porom crying tonight in her room…before the two visitors arrived. I think she wishes Palom were here right now with this harbinger anew…"

"I thought perhaps she was still mad that she was not the one chosen to go…It's hard to understand what the Elder is thinking these days, isn't it? But still, she doesn't say anything…she just keeps cheerfully accepting her duties…"

 _Porom…_ Ceodore bit down on his lip, thinking about the look on her face when she had told Ceodore she couldn't come to Baron with them.

 _…I could learn a lot from you. I thought becoming a Red Wing meant I could stand on my own two feet…but I couldn't even make it to Mysidia without the aid of a stranger. You are far stronger than I to accept your burdens alone…_

Turning around silently, Ceodore abandoned his plan to pray in the tower, and instead went back downstairs, passing the room Porom had given them to sleep in, and entering the crystal chamber.

Shining high above the mirrored floors and walls was the radiant blue jewel known the world over as the Crystal of Water. One of eight crystals that served the Blue Planet, it had been guarded by the Mysidians for centuries until one fateful day seventeen years ago, when Cecil Harvey of Baron had forced his way into the chamber along with the Red Wings, and stolen it at the then-King of Baron's command.

 _"That was the day the war had started for me,"_ Cecil had told Ceodore on one nondescript day. _"I was a coward, and accepted my mission without thought for the consequences until it was too late – the blood had already been spilled, and the lives lost could not be reclaimed. I swore that I would never let myself be complicit in such evil again…if I did…I knew I would surely lose what was left of my very soul…"_

"What were you thinking when the light of the crystal first shone upon you, father…?" Ceodore whispered to himself. He watched his distorted reflection glimmer back at him as the crystal slowly rotated in place, like a tiny planet. "Because right now…all I feel is pure terror…"

"Ceodore? Is that you?"

Ceodore jumped, startled by the unexpected voice. His travel companion stepped forward from where he had been standing at the crystal dais. He had been so still that Ceodore had not even noticed him. His hood had been dropped around his shoulders, and his hair was half pulled away in the knot at his neck, half hanging down the side of his face. Ceodore realized with a start that despite the crystal being right there, he could see no reflection of its light in the man's despondent blue eyes.

"Sorry… I didn't realize anyone was in here. I couldn't sleep…"

"Nor could I," the man replied. "I thought it would do me some good to pray to the crystal…it's been so long, I had almost forgotten what one looked like…"

"You do not come from a kingdom that houses a crystal?" Ceodore asked slowly. He thought perhaps he could get even the slightest hint of where the man was from…

"No…much like you, I suppose," the man smiled as if to punctuate his thought, and Ceodore realized he was not going to elaborate any further.

"This is my first time ever seeing one," Ceodore added. "I guess I thought it would feel…different."

"Ah," the man nodded. "Well…there are some that say the crystals reflect what is in man's heart. And if I could hazard a guess right now, I'd say what you're feeling right now is…something akin to fear, correct?"

Ceodore drew in a sharp breath, which was all the response the hooded man needed. He gazed up at the crystal once more, crossing his arms over his chest, and Ceodore saw the same look in his eyes that he would catch in Cecil's whenever his father would steal a glance at the moon…his heart had left the crystal chamber, and had been transported somewhere far, far away. After what felt like hours, the man broke from his reverie, and gave Ceodore a bereaved smile.

"Do not think yourself so transparent, Ceodore. I only knew that because right now, that is what I feel too."


	4. Act Four: The Knight's Tale

Act Four: The Knight's Tale | The Homecoming

The next morning had blossomed into another beautiful, promising summer day. Porom loitered a lot longer than she should have in the garden, savoring the peaceful tranquility of Mysidia Village that only came before most of its inhabitants roused from their slumbers. Once everyone was up for the day, the village transformed into a buzzing hub of commerce and magic that did not cease until long after night fell. As she debated over which melon to harvest for that morning's breakfast, she gave a gentle knock to the last large melon in the patch with her fist, and heard the hollow "thud" she was looking for. She slid open the small knife she kept on her belt and began sawing away at the vine, humming along with the rhythm of her blade. When she severed the vine, she lifted up the cumbersome melon in both arms and began to waddle back to the Tower of Prayer, glancing down the hill toward the small building the Devil's Road was housed in. Porom felt her spirits droop considerably just at the sight of it, and turned away. Everything bad that had happened yesterday raced back into her mind – the ominous second moon, the flock of monsters that had flown over Mysidia, the frightening crash she had heard from the uppermost spire of the Tower of Prayer that turned out to be Ceodore's comrades…

 _Palom…I hope whatever you are doing in Troia, that you are safe…I pray you have the sense to come back home to us if something happens…_

Ceodore and the hooded man were waiting in the great hall of the tower when Porom came back inside.

"Good morning!" Porom exclaimed, forcing her dark thoughts to the back of her mind in an effort to be as cheerful as possible for her guests. Ceodore's companion seemed all right, but she noticed Ceodore looked as if he hadn't gotten any sleep at all. Dark circles were prominent under his eyes, and his hair was tangled and dull, even though it was wet from what had probably been a hurried splash under a bucket of water.

The hooded man silently offered to take the melon from Porom's hands by his extending his arms outward, and she let him, brushing the dirt from her hands off onto her clothes. She caught Ceodore ogling it hungrily with eyes as wide as saucers, and smiled.

"Go on, have some. There's plenty for everyone." She handed Ceodore her knife, and he carved out a slab while the man held it steady against his knee, managing to keep his balance as elegantly as a dancer, Porom noticed jealously. She slipped past them to the foot of the stairs leading to the crystal chamber, calling out into the threshold.

"Hey, you guys! Could you come down here, please?"

The sound of thundering footsteps running hurriedly down the stairs could be heard, and moments later, a black mage and a white mage appeared, both eyeing Ceodore and his companion suspiciously before turning to Porom.

"You called, Lady Porom?" the white mage asked in a high, squeaky voice that some boy long ago had probably told her was cute, so she never grew out of the habit of raising the inflection unnaturally. Her deep maroon hair was meticulously curled around her face in a long bob that framed her chin in the front and gradually shortened to only a few inches in the back. Her pink and white robes were perfectly pressed and looked as new as the day they were taken out of their garment box from her first day of classes. Her upturned green eyes were swathed with pink eyeliner, giving the illusion of striking wings framing her gaze as she blinked.

The black mage that accompanied her appeared to be her exact opposite in every way. Deeply tan despite the massive straw hat she wore upon her head, her long, tangled black hair was tossed back into a sloppy ponytail, and it was debatable when a brush had last been run through it, let alone the last time it was washed or styled. Her blue robes were covered in scorch marks and haphazardly patched from other magical accidents, and a cheerful yellow scarf was wrapped around the bottom half of her face, only revealing the top of a slender nose and narrowed black eyes.

"Who are these people?" the black mage asked, mid-yawn.

Porom forced herself to smile harder. One of her biggest pet peeves was a lack of manners, thanks to growing up with a twin like Palom. "These are the people I told you about last night that need access to the Devil's Road. Ceodore…These two mages will guide you through the Devil's Road in my place. The white mage here, Meghan, knows how to open the seal. The black mage, Anja, will be able to annihilate any monsters that dare make their approach."

"Thank you very much!" Ceodore bowed to the two mages, hastily wiping the melon juice from his mouth. "I appreciate you helping us on such short notice."

"Beats hanging around here, waiting for something to do," Anja shrugged, and Porom cleared her throat so loudly that the two mages jumped in place.

Meghan peered up at Ceodore, a slow grin forming. "Mmm…I can sense great white magic potential in your body...yes, an immense power greater than all others! Who did you say you were again?"

"I…I didn't…" Ceodore blushed. "I'm Ceodore, of the Red Wings of Baron."

"Baron, eh?" Meghan shrugged. "That's a shame. If you studied here under Lady Porom, I bet you could be a master."

Ceodore shook his head. "I…I don't know…" He looked to Porom helplessly, and she gently tugged Meghan back by her collar.

"Now, let's not get distracted…Ceodore is in a hurry to get back to Baron." Porom gave him one last hug, and whispered in his ear so that only he could hear her. Her gut had told her thanks to the look on the man's face last night when Ceodore had revealed the fate of the Red Wings that perhaps Ceodore was not being as open with his identity as she had previously assumed. She had also noticed that this was the second time Ceodore had only introduced himself as a Red Wing, and not as Prince Ceodore Harvey. "Be careful, Ceodore. Please give my regards to Cecil and the others when you arrive home…"

Ceodore hugged her back, and nodded his thanks. The hooded man handed the melon back to Porom with the knife sticking out of the top, and she anxiously looked over the group one last time.

"May the blessings of the crystals accompany you on your journey."

They departed the Tower of Prayer, and Ceodore glanced over his shoulder at Porom one last time as the doors began to slam shut behind them. She raised her hand in response, her mouth set in a straight line. Ceodore only turned back around when she had completely disappeared behind the threshold.

It had been more exciting than he had anticipated, becoming reacquainted with one of his father's friends from the war…especially after everything that had happened yesterday – a familiar face had been a boon to his spirits. Based on Lady Porom's age, she would have had to have been a young child when she first met Cecil…Ceodore wondered what kind of friendship they had had, and wished he could have asked her more questions about what Cecil had been like as a young man. In the back of his mind, a dark, torturous whisper echoed.

 _It may be too late to ask him myself…_

"The Devil's Road is right over here," Anja said, interrupting Ceodore's thoughts as she tied her straw hat tighter underneath her chin. "It's already a hot one today…"

They reached a nondescript building at the bottom of the hill the Tower of Prayer sat upon that looked as if it were a normal village dwelling – there were even windows in the front with tightly drawn shades. Meghan whirled around, gesturing for the others to move away with fluttering palms.

"I will now release the seal. Stand back, please."

Everyone took a dutiful step backwards, and satisfied, Meghan turned toward the house, closing her eyes and raising her arms in the air. There was a soft humming noise, and Ceodore noticed that the windows in the house had begun to rattle in their panes. Just when the noise had gotten louder and he preemptively covered his eyes to protect them from what he sure was going to be a storm of shattering glass, a wave of green light burst from the center of the building, sending warm, tingling shock waves through the four of them before ricocheting away and dissipating in the dawn's light. Ceodore lowered his arms, and Megan took hold of the latch, the door swinging open.

"Let us continue inside."

They shuffled inside, and Ceodore realized that there was only one room in the entire building – the entryway they were standing in. Anja closed the door behind them, plunging them into darkness with the shades blocking any early morning sunlight that could have trickled in. On the floor in the rear of the room was a glowing blue rune, which began to shine brighter as Meghan approached it. She looked up at Ceodore and the hooded man, her eyes glowing with the haunting light of the rune reflected within.

"Please allow me to explain a little more about the Devil's Road. This was once built as a means of transportation that only those who were casters of magic could safely traverse. It takes enormous stamina and spiritual energy to cross dimensions – you could think of it as a Teleport spell, multiplied by one-hundred. Those who are gifted in magic are more likely to have an abundance of those qualities, thus they were able to cross safely."

"You said casters of magic could only traverse it…what changed?" Ceodore asked quietly.

"Humans did," Anja interjected, pushing past Ceodore and the hooded man to stand next to Meghan. "The gift of magic has been slowly spreading throughout the planet ever since it first appeared in human history. It's why you have phenomena such as our own Lord Palom and Lady Porom, two of the most powerful mages in the world born to a family with no previous magical history whatsoever. Someday, it will be a matter of when, not if, every human on the planet can control some level of magic. We're evolving as a species – slowly, but surely."

"Evolution…" Ceodore whispered under his breath. _There's that word again…_

 _Long ago, our ancestors, the Lunarians, came to the Blue Planet on a moon…There, they sleep, waiting for the right time to join us forever. When that happens, there will cease to be Lunarians and humans…we will all become one people, and evolve together._

"You would not be here if Lady Porom did not think you could handle the journey," Meghan offered, mistaking Ceodore's silence for worry. "We've learned that even those with no penchant for magic can cross safely as long as they focus the whole of their heart and soul on their desired destination – after all, that's basically what magic is – envisioning something and making it come to life."

"But with that said…" Anja waggled her finger. "It's important that you only concentrate on getting to the other side – to Baron. Understood? If your heart is clouded with any doubt about what you are doing, you could be lost forever between dimensions."

"Oh Anja, they'll be fine…" Meghan shook her head, and even gave a gay little laugh. "Let's get this show on the road. We'll hold hands and go at the same time, OK?" Anja grunted and took Meghan's hand, but she didn't look happy about it. Ceodore and the hooded man stepped closer, linking hands with each other and with Anja and Meghan, respectively.

"On the count of three, all right?" Meghan chirped, and Ceodore closed his eyes. He could feel the hooded man tugging him forward as Meghan counted down. A few seconds later, the floor fell out from under his feet, and he could feel a fierce tempest swallow him whole.

 _Think of Baron…think of Baron…_

As the wind shrieked in his ears, Ceodore tried to picture his homeland and resisted the temptation to open his eyes and risk distraction. He mentally traced the path he would take to school every day from the castle, which had always been straight-forward and free of diversions except for Fridays. Those afternoons were when he would stop by his grandmother's house after class and give her the rundown of his week while enjoying a plateful of her specialty, Baronian butter cookies. Sometimes she would tell him stories about Rosa when she was growing up, and what life had been like when his mother had just been a civilian before Cecil had asked her to marry him. If she were feeling really nostalgic a particular day, she would tell him about his grandfather, a noble dragoon who had died before Rosa had been born. Those stories had been few and far between, but were always worth the wait – she had even told Ceodore stories that she said she could never bring herself to share with Rosa as a child.

"There is no doubt that you are the spitting image of your father," Joanna Farrell would bemoan, and Ceodore suspected she only said it half-jokingly. "But I can see Rosa's father in you as clear as if he were standing before me all those years ago. You carry yourself with the same grace and lightness in your step he did…you would have made a fine dragoon, my dear. If only Kain were still here to train you!"

Ceodore's memories transported him back to the castle he had grown up in, where he would follow Rosa around as a child while she taught white magic classes, and sneak into the kitchen with Cid to get extra snacks before dinner. Sometimes in the mornings before school, he would go outside and spy on his father as he drilled the Red Wings, hiding on the same walkway over the shipyard that Rosa told him she would watch Cecil and Kain duel from. But even as Ceodore got older, the one place in the castle he always returned to, over and over again, was the northernmost overlook that gave the best view of the entirety of the kingdom. As a child, he wasn't allowed up there without either his parents or a guard, but when he had finally become old enough to be trusted by himself, he would steal away for hours a time to do his school work, or to watch the ships of the Red Wings depart for their missions.

He remembered one evening not too long ago, when Rosa had caught him staring wistfully at the glowing village lights below – where he had just seen a group of Red Wing soldiers disembark from their ship for a night of celebratory activities in town. She had paused mid-approach, watching him quietly until he finally turned and let out a yelp in surprise.

"Mother! H-How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," a serene smile followed. "For a second, I thought I had stepped back in time. You looked just like your father when he was your age, with the way the moonlight was hitting your hair."

Ceodore glanced back toward the village, crossing his arms over his chest.

 _If only I hadn't been so afraid of being compared to Father and had completed my military training…by the time the Red Wings recruit for new members, my name will be on the bottom of the list, I'm sure…Why am I such a coward?_

"…But Father was a lot different at fifteen, right?" Ceodore kept his eyes on the village, pressing his lips together. There had been a note of dejection in his tone, that subtle as it was, his mother had picked up on right away.

Rosa blinked, touching her fingers to the scarf that was wrapped around her neck. "Of course dear…You're two different people, after all. You and your father grew up under very different circumstances. No matter what you might feel, all he has ever wanted is for you to be happy. I can promise you that..."

Ceodore could not bring himself to respond.

 _How am I ever going to be happy if I can never rise to anyone's expectations? It would seem I can't even rise to my own…I've wasted so much time just being afraid of rejection._

As Rosa watched the gloom befall her son's features, she couldn't help but feel like she had encountered yet another specter of the distant past – in Ceodore's sorrow, she saw remnants of an old friend…long-loved, but also long-forgotten to the annals of time, which had continued to march forward, indifferent of what had been left unsaid…

Ceodore inwardly flinched at the unpleasant memory, wishing he could forget the anxious look he had caused to appear in his mother's eyes. The same hollow sensation in his chest he had felt from just before the airship crash had begun to creep back, swirling in his lungs, and he could feel his fingers shaking in the hooded man's grip.

"Ceodore?" a voice that sounded very far away called out to him, but when he tried to reply, a choked gagging noise came instead – like someone was closing their fingers around his throat.

He tried to picture himself back onto the castle overlook, but his thoughts were racing too fast for his heart to process, which was beating in a slow, labored rhythm. There was a flash of light, and Ceodore saw his father standing where _he_ should have been – back on the overlook – his back turned to Ceodore as he gazed up at the twin moons. Ceodore parted his lips to cry out, but the invisible fingers were pressing down harder, cutting off his air supply. Another flash of light blinded him and then there was a curtain of searing flames – Ceodore was propelled backward from the overlook, ripped away from Baron at the speed of light as a massive cloud of smoke released into the air from the castle, so dark that it absorbed even the light of the twin moons.

"Nooooooooo!" Ceodore cried, and felt first his right hand, and then his left hand, slip free. His body felt as if it were being torn apart – dragged into oblivion by the same intense gravity of the black light from his nightmare after their ship had crashed. His heart had reversed course and begun to pound so fast that he could hear the blood rush through his ears like the roar of an ocean.

Just as he was about to open his eyes to see how close he was to being smashed into mere molecules, he heard someone call his name again, and felt a warm, tenacious pair of arms wrap around his waist, lifting him out of the maelstrom.

The air had stopped rushing over his body, and his heart rate had slowed down to a pace where he could once again make out distinct, purposeful beats. Slowly, Ceodore opened one eye, and then another, and found himself staring at a gently rising and falling blurry sea of blue. There came a low groan from beneath him, and Ceodore realized he was actually on top of the hooded man – and probably crushing his lungs with his weight.

Ceodore pushed himself off hurriedly, collapsing onto a cold, grimy limestone floor. The hooded man sat up, wheezing and rubbing the back of his head as he looked at Ceodore.

"Are you OK?"

"Y…Yes!" Ceodore gasped. "What happened?"

"You tell me," the hooded man moaned, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "One minute, we're flying along, and the next, I look over at you and see you turning blue and falling away from the group. I managed to grab back onto you, but…" He paused, looking around.

They were completely surrounded in darkness, save for what little they could see in front of their faces – which consisted of the floor, and each other.

"…We lost Meghan and Anja."

"Damn it…" Ceodore buried his face in his hands. "It's my fault…I was trying to focus on Baron, but…then I thought about the smoke I saw from the airship, and had this bizarre vision – it was my father, disappearing in a wall of flame…!"

The hooded man frowned, gently resting a hand on Ceodore's hunched shoulders.

"Hey…it's OK. No one got hurt…We'll find our way back, somehow. Nothing's impossible until we're dead in the ground, and you and I aren't at that point…yet."

"But it's my fault!" Ceodore wailed, shaking his head. "I couldn't clear the doubt from my heart like the mages asked us to…my family…if something has happened to them, I'll…!"

 _I'll never be able to tell them how sorry I am…_

"Hey…" the hooded man tugged on Ceodore's shoulder, forcing him to turn his way. Ceodore lowered his hands, heaving a heavy sigh as he looked up at his companion. "...Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"I…I didn't know what to say. I've been trying to tell myself that they're all right, but then I have nightmares that say otherwise. I've never had such realistic dreams before…like my body is trying to warn me before I see it for myself…You must think I'm a sorry excuse for a knight, huh…?"

The hooded man shook his head. "Quite the opposite. I think you've been trying to be too brave for someone who has been through as much as you have in the past twenty-four hours. Ceodore…it's OK to be scared. It's even OK to make mistakes. Even the bravest, most powerful knights in the world have done both. What matters is what you do with that fear, and what you learn from those mistakes. If you were to tell me that you were just going to stay here and give up on getting home, I would have to tell you off. But I know that's not how you really feel…right?"

"Right! I…I'm not going to give up…I'm just scared…that I'm not capable of doing this on my own…"

"Well, then it's a good thing you're not alone." The man climbed to his feet, reaching down for Ceodore's hand. "Come on. If we're going to get out of here, I'm going to need your help."

Ceodore grabbed hold of his hand. "My help…?"

"Ceodore! Ceodore's err….friend!"

A flighty female voice echoed across the darkness, causing them both to jump.

"We're here!" Ceodore cried, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Meghan…Anja…is that you!?"

"Yes!" Another voice piped up, cool and collected despite the troubling situation, which meant it had to have been Anja. "We made it to the exit…can you tell us what you see?"

"It's too dark!" Ceodore looked around again, but nothing had changed. "We can't see a thing…"

"You're probably stuck between dimensions…"

There were a couple of minutes of silence, and Ceodore glanced worriedly at the hooded man. However, he was turned away, his fingers pressed to his chin in thought.

"Ceodore…are you still there?"

"Yes!"

"We feel like there must be an exit somewhere you can take to get back to the main road since we can hear each other…the only hitch is we don't know what it looks like…or if you will fall yet deeper into time-space if you stray too far. Stay put while we think about how to find you, OK?"

"Erg…yes," Ceodore frowned, and the voices stopped once again. Ceodore tugged on the hooded man's sleeve. "Did you catch all that…?"

"I did," he nodded, and turned to Ceodore. "But time is of the essence…we can't wait here forever. We're going to find our own way out."

"What!?" Ceodore blinked. "How do you propose we do that?"

"Ceodore…when I found you, you were surrounded in a brilliant light. Do you remember?"

Ceodore looked down at his feet. He remembered, barely. The same thing had happened to his body as when he was fighting the Sandworm for the Knight's Emblem. He had felt an incredible burst of adrenaline, and had been able to use it to repel the Flamebeast back with a magic barrier. But once again, his newfound strength had failed him as quickly as it had come, and he had been left a dithering mess. At least the last time, he had managed to throw back a potion before completely passing out.

"How is that going to help…?"

"It's simple," the man shrugged. "You just need to light the way for us. If we fill this place with light, we may be able to find the path the mages spoke of."

"I can't exactly control it," Ceodore grimaced. "It's not a simple white magic spell."

The hooded man cocked his head. "Well, pray tell, what is it?"

"I wish I knew! That was only the second time it's ever happened to me, and the first was a day prior."

"And what was happening when this phenomenon occurred?"

Ceodore frowned. "I…I was scared. Both times…I was terrified that I was going to lose something very important – the first time, that I wouldn't capture the Knight's Emblem and become a Red Wing. The second time…that I wouldn't be able to keep my promise to Captain Biggs and get back to Baron."

The hooded man shook his head. "Don't you see, Ceodore? Something _awakens_ inside of you when you have something you want to protect. I won't pretend to understand the exact nature of this power, but I don't think we need to in order to invoke it. You just need to think about what it is you are trying to protect, and it will come. Ask yourself: What is it that you are fighting for?"

Ceodore shook his head. "For my whole life, I've let the accomplishments of others enshroud me in shadow. It was because of that that I pursued becoming a Red Wing. I wanted to make my own way in the world…I didn't want to be a man who was only valued because of his name or his bloodline…" He took a deep breath, returning his gaze to the hooded man. "Have _you_ ever felt like that?"

"Yes…" the man sighed, and crossed his arms over his chest. "…I certainly can relate."

"But since the accident…I haven't thought about any of that stuff...I've only been able to think about how desperate I am to get home. I accepted the responsibility of defending Baron…and now I am the only one left who can see it through. My family, and my friends – as few in number as they are – they can probably rely on their own strength, and have no need of mine…but I can't rest until I know they are safe. That's why I _have_ to get back to Baron – it's not just because it was my captain's final order."

Ceodore looked up into the darkness swirling above them. "I could be mistaken, but…I get the sense you're fighting for a similar reason…right?"

The hooded man blinked, taken aback. "An astute observation…but what makes you say that?"

"Because…" Ceodore pressed his hand to his chest. A gentle glow began to envelope his body, and he felt a familiar radiance tingling in his limbs. "Last night, in the crystal chamber, told me you had fear in your heart. And why would a man be afraid unless he had something precious that could be lost?"

The hooded man pressed his lips together, words failing him.

Ceodore closed his eyes. Everything around him began to fade to white, and even the hooded man's steady breathing became a hushed echo. This time, Ceodore would not allow his overwhelming strength to take over – he had to retain consciousness, and focus that strength into his mind instead. Calling upon every ounce of his spiritual energy, Ceodore raised his right hand, stretching it into the sky as he opened his eyes.

Hallowed light began to spread throughout the chamber, revealing a mess of twisted limestone pathways beneath their feet that either decomposed into nothingness or continued onward. If Ceodore or the hooded man had taken even a few more steps to their left or right, they would have fallen off the path they had landed upon and plunged into the darkness below. Ceodore thought he heard voices calling from the north, and pivoted. It was just a glimmer, but in the very far distance, he could see a blue rune engraved in a floating platform that was connected to no pathways, but could be jumped to if timed properly.

"Over there!" Ceodore cried, pointing toward the rune. "But we need to hurry…I don't know how long I can keep this up!"

"Lead the way…!" the man replied, pulling his cloak deeper over his face to shield his eyes from the blinding light.

Ceodore broke out into a run, dodging missteps and dead-ends with much more accuracy than he could have ever hoped for in his normal state. His body anticipated every twist in the path, warning him well before his feet automatically lifted into the air. Behind him, the hooded man kept up easily, practically flying from path to path, his cloak fluttering behind him like a royal banner going into battle. Just as they were nearing the final jump that would take them to the rune, Ceodore felt his strength falter, his legs folding into themselves like rubber slabs. Black, pulsating spots began to invade his vision.

"No…!" Ceodore whimpered, stretching his hand out toward the rune. "Please, just a little more…!"

But his lungs felt as if they were about the burst – he drew a final haggard breath and began to fall forward, feeling his feet leave the pathway.

"Easy there!" the hooded man grunted, diving down to scoop Ceodore into his arms before propelling himself into the air, vaulting over the final chasm and nimbly landing on the final platform. The rune flashed brilliantly as the darkness fell around them once more.

"Gah…!"

The hooded man landed roughly on the flats of his feet on another stone floor, his knees buckling as he tried to retain his balance and not drop Ceodore in the process. Meghan and Anja were standing before him, their jaws on the floor and their eyes wide with shock.

"What?!" Meghan gasped.

"How did you…?" Anja blinked.

"Never mind that…" the hooded man groaned, finally having to give in to his body's demands to rest and setting Ceodore down on the ground. He collapsed next to him, pressing his palms into his knees as he gasped for air, his stamina thoroughly drained. "Does one of you two know a Raise spell?"

"Of course," Meghan huffed, quickly regaining her composure. She cast the spell, and Ceodore awoke, his eyes fluttering as pushed himself up from the floor.

"Did we make it to Baron…?"

"You did great," the hooded man said, and Ceodore beamed when he saw Meghan and Anja.

"Thank you…if you hadn't have called out to us, we might not have known where we were."

"It would seem you can take care of yourself just fine," Anja raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps Lady Porom sent us for nothing."

"No, no!" Ceodore protested. "Please…come with us a little further, would you? I'm…I'm not sure what we'll find out there…"

Anja and Meghan looked at each other, and shrugged.

"It would be remiss of us if we weren't to report Baron's condition back to Lady Porom," Meghan said softly.

"Lead the way, Ceodore," Anja said. "This is your hometown, right?"

"Right…" Ceodore eyed the exit to the Devil's Road warily. What was he going to find on the other side…? He could hear the hooded man standing back up behind him, declining Meghan's offer for a healing spell.

Ceodore grasped the handle of the door, which he realized was exactly like the door back in Mysidia – the little room they were crowded in was even set up the same way, with the same stark shades hiding two small windows. Unlatching it and pushing it open, he cringed inwardly, preparing for the worst – fire crawling up the buildings in the village, monsters prowling the streets, and terrified screams from scared villagers.

But when the door swung open, all Ceodore was greeted with was a dark gray sky that was threatening to explode with rain at any moment, and a few village children who were scrambling to get home before the storm arrived, their cloaks pulled up over their heads. He realized he was in the northwestern side of town, staring at the back of the general store and only a few blocks away from his grandmother's house. A warm burst of wind hit his face, the humidity thick enough that he could already feel beads of sweat dripping from his scalp. The trees scattered throughout the village swayed threateningly, some of the branches whipping horizontally when they were struck by a particularly violent gust.

"Well, I guess we know Mysidia and Baron definitely don't share the same weather," Anja said dryly. "But on the upside, I don't see anything unusual. It looks like everyone is just taking shelter from the storm."

"Me neither…" Ceodore frowned. "…But the monsters were heading in this direction…and we definitely saw smoke. It had looked like it was coming from the castle's keep." He pushed past the mages and stepped outside, his scarf instantly thrashing in the wind as he narrowed his eyes and tried to peer at the castle. He couldn't see much of it – only the very tallest towers, including the one he normally slept in – but everything appeared to be perfectly normal. "The monsters would have reached Baron by now…right? They were flying faster than the Red Wings, after all…"

"We'd best check in at the castle," the hooded man said. "They have no way of knowing what happened to the Red Wings, right…? Or surely a search party would have been sent by now…"

"Right," Ceodore gulped. "I need to tell the king what happened…" He couldn't understand why his stomach felt as if it had been replaced by a sinkhole.

"Let's hurry, before we get caught in the storm," Meghan sniffed. "These cloaks aren't waterproof, you know!" She pulled her hood up over her hair, pouting.

Ceodore followed suit, grabbing his scarf that was fluttering in the wind and tying it into a makeshift cowl. He didn't care so much about the rain, but was a little worried that he would be recognized, even though the village streets were quickly emptying. He hadn't quite thought through what it would mean if the party learned he was the prince of Baron – but it was something he wanted to have control over revealing, if at all possible. It felt a little less dishonest that way.

They quickly wove through the village streets, Ceodore taking his old route as if he were coming home from school, which meant as little potential for interactions with others as possible. The closer they got to the castle, the more he was amazed that nothing seemed to be amiss. There were no signs of any damage to the exterior buildings, and even the lawns leading up to the drawbridge were perfectly manicured as usual – no torn patches of grass from battling, or signs of discharged arrows or damage from any magic.

They crossed the lowered drawbridge over the moat that surrounded the castle entrance, and Ceodore saw that there were two guards – dragoons, it looked like, positioned at the gate that would take you to the great hall. He secretly hoped that they would step aside per usual – they tended to save their greetings for only the king and queen anyway – but Ceodore could feel the anxiety creep into his throat as he got to only a few paces away, and they still hadn't moved an inch. Finally, he had to force himself to stop lest he run into them, and looked up, his cheeks flushing.

 _Please don't use my title…please don't use my title!_

"E-Excuse me…" His voice came out as a mere squeak from nerves.

But neither of the guards looked at Ceodore – they were staring ahead wordlessly, like they hadn't heard a word he said. Ceodore cleared his throat, and tugged down on his scarf a little to reveal more of his face.

"We need to get through."

Finally, a guard turned to him, his lips barely moving as he muttered his reply.

"No one may pass…Orders from the king…"

"What?!" Ceodore blinked. For good measure, he tugged down his scarf the rest of the way. His disguise couldn't have been _that_ good… "It's me! Ceodore!"

"No one may pass…Orders from the king…" the other soldier droned, identical to the first.

Ceodore clenched his jaw, giving a defiant wave of his hand. _"Can't you see who I am!?"_ He was so confused that he didn't care how arrogant and snobby he sounded. Meghan and Anja looked at each other, and the hooded man cleared his throat.

"Let's go, Ceodore."

Ceodore whirled around, resisting the childish urge to stomp his foot.

"Huh!?"

"We're wasting our time here," the man said calmly, his eyes flicking up at the soldiers before returning to Ceodore's. There was a powerful rumble of thunder from above, and a streak of white lightning ripped across the sky. He turned and began to walk away. Ceodore glanced back at the guards one last time before hesitantly following him – and Meghan and Anja trailed behind dutifully.

When they had crossed back over the drawbridge and were out of earshot, Ceodore gave in to panic.

"Those guards were strange…So pale, and what's more, they didn't even recognize me!"

The hooded man paused, muttering under his breath.

"Just like before…"

"Huh?" Ceodore blinked, and the man shook his head.

"We'll have to sneak in, I suppose. We can do so through the waterway in town, right?"

Ceodore tilted his head. "I'm impressed you know about that…I thought that was a local secret…a rather embarrassing one, at that," He sighed. "I never understood why they just didn't seal that up…seems like a huge security risk. But regardless, it's locked."

"If it's locked, that means there must be a key," the hooded man said, as if it were that easy. "There's got to be someone that watches over the waterway to keep the citizenry out, right?"

"Well, yes…" Ceodore trailed off. "But we don't really have any guards that are stationed at the waterway, so I can't imagine the military has it. If there was an emergency, there's really only one person close by…" He blinked. "That must be it…Cid, Baron's chief engineer! He lives right above the waterway. I bet Cid could help us find a way in!"

"Let's find him then," the man said, and Ceodore nodded eagerly. Of course…how could he forget about Cid? He would know what had happened in the castle – and maybe he could explain what was going on. Perhaps the guards were being ordered to be extra careful because of the monsters? Cid could set them straight – then they wouldn't even have to go through the waterway. The thought of it made Ceodore shudder anyway – he had never been, but it sounded beyond creepy.

Ceodore led the party to Cid's house, which sat on the northwestern side of town, not far from the Devil's Road entryway. He had lived in the same, modest-sized brick house on the highest hill in Baron his entire life – Cid had told Ceodore that he was born there, inherited it when his parents had died, and wanted to raise his own family there as well after he had gotten married (and subsequently widowed). After Cid's daughter had gotten married (Ceodore barely remembered the wedding, but he had been commissioned to be the ring bearer), Cid even insisted that she move her new husband in. Since Cid spent so much time at the castle, his daughter practically had the house to herself anyway, but Ceodore had always been a little jealous that their entire family got to live under one roof – it seemed like it would be so exciting to always have family around. As a child, when Ceodore had asked Cecil if Rosa's mother could move into the castle with them, he had never seen his father turn so white so quickly.

Ceodore climbed the steps leading to Cid's yard two at a time, his heart fluttering excitedly. He knocked on the door, and was greeted by Amelia, Cid's only daughter. She was holding a sniveling boy in her arms, and looked like she had been caught in a storm herself. Her red hair was falling out of the braid she normally had thrown over one shoulder, and her clothes were covered in food and some sort of liquid that Ceodore could only hope was water.

"Ceodore!" she gasped. The boy in her arms, Mid, wailed louder, and she hushed him between clenched teeth. "Sorry dear…Mid is terrified of storms, and I just had to pull him out from under the bed…while attempting to make lunch…" She shook her head and took a deep breath. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Cid here?" Ceodore asked anxiously. He didn't want to be rude by trying to peer behind Amelia, but as he pushed up on his toes, he realized with disappointment that he could only see her husband, who was trying to supervise something that was burning on the range.

"No, I'm afraid not," Amelia shook her head, and Mid hiccuped.

"My grandpa promised me we'd go on an airship voyage when he got home from work," the child sniffed. "That was forever ago!"

"He hasn't been home…?" Ceodore frowned.

"Not since yesterday morning, no," Amelia said. "I heard a disturbing rumor that the castle was attacked by monsters…a girlfriend of mine even said she saw smoke…but everything seems fine. It's not unusual for my father to sneak an overnight in the shipyard, but…I'm still a little concerned. His highness would have surely kicked him out and made him come home by now if that were the case. He's been trying very hard to crack down on my father's…workhorse tendencies, shall we say."

Cid's son-in-law called out from where he was standing in the kitchen. "I have to say, I'm worried...The man's not exactly young anymore. He'd be livid if he heard me say that, but…"

"If you see him, will you tell him to stop pushing himself so hard?" Amelia shook her head. "Also, Mid misses him! Please don't tell him what my husband said…"

"Er…yes, about that…" Ceodore felt his cheeks turn red. He was horrible at lying, but he didn't want Amelia to worry about what was happening at the castle for now. She obviously didn't know about the guards, or else she wouldn't have said that everything seemed fine. "The reason I was looking for Cid is because Captain Biggs wants me to investigate the waterway entrance. Says there might be some monsters that have made a nest there. I figured Cid would be home for lunch by now, so I just came here…"

"Oh, have you joined the Red Wings, dear? That's wonderful!" Amelia smiled, and even Mid clapped his hands, even though he didn't understand what he was acting excited about. "Today happens to be your lucky day – I've actually been holding onto the key for my father." She reached down in her pocket, fishing out an ancient, iron skeleton key that had a worn-down crest of Baron embedded in the bow, and handing it to Ceodore. "You can just give it back to my father when you see him again, OK?"

"Yes ma'am…thank you," Ceodore bowed. "Well, I'd best go…I want to try to finish before the sky opens up on us."

"Be careful!" Amelia waved, and Mid mimicked her. She peered over Ceodore's shoulder, noticing the shabbily-clothed man and two mages standing a few feet behind him. "Who are your friends…?"

"Just some assistants," Ceodore laughed nervously, and took a few steps backwards. "Bye…"

"BYE!" Mid exclaimed, and did Ceodore a huge favor by reaching out and slamming the door in his face. Ceodore groaned and turned away, and the hooded man smirked.

"Assistants…? You need assistants to exterminate a measly monster nest?"

"It was the best I could come up with under the circumstances," Ceodore snapped. "Now, can we get this over with?"

"That's what we should be asking," Meghan pouted. "A waterway is basically a…sewer, right?"

"Yes," Anja grinned wickedly. "So watch your step."

* * *

Ceodore had not entirely made up the concept of monsters living in the dank, flooded caverns – his father had told him about his own time spent in the waterway as a young man – he and Kain had done training as cadets there, although it was frowned-upon nowadays due to fears of a cave-in. _Probably much to Captain Biggs' disappointment_ , Ceodore thought. _May his soul rest in peace, but the man was still a sadist – I don't think he would have denied it, either._

Although they had descended a couple stories underground, Ceodore could still hear the distant rumble of the thunder on the surface, and soon the sound of furious rain came hammering down on the cavern ceilings, filling the chambers with a constant roaring echo that made it difficult to hear even their own footsteps.

Anja made quick work of the monsters that were not scared into hiding by the rain with her black magic – Ceodore was both impressed and frightened by how gleefully and efficiently she fried and froze every creature that had the audacity to cross their path. Remembering some hard-learned lessons in his own magic classes where the white mage group he was in would practice their defense spells against novice black mages, he did his best to simply stay out of her way. It was difficult for him to admit, but it was nice to have a short break from having to worry about dueling monsters – he was still exhausted from the Devil's Road and from the effort of summoning his unknown power once again, and the relative silence and between the four of them as they stumbled through the tunnels gave him some much-needed time to mull over their current situation.

 _It has been a full day since the monsters attacked the Red Wings, and since we saw the smoke coming from Baron,_ Ceodore mused. _Amelia made it seem like the village was unharmed – but no one seems to know what happened at the castle. Has no one that was there the morning of the attack come home? There's no evidence that there was a fight, but the guards won't let anyone in. Why would Cid still be there…? Is he helping my father with something…?_

Ceodore glanced over at the hooded man. He had kept his eyes straight ahead nearly the entire time, his hand resting over the hilt of his blade, hidden underneath his cloak. Ceodore was beyond grateful that the man had put his own urgent business in Baron aside, whatever it was, to help him, but…he found himself becoming more and more curious about what exactly his companion was trying to achieve.

 _He seemed a little anxious to get into the castle…maybe his "business" is actually there,_ Ceodore thought. _I can't shake the feeling that he is looking for someone…does he have family in Baron, too?_ Ceodore averted his eyes when the hooded man paused at a ledge, holding out his arm. _Would he actually tell me if I just came out and asked…? Probably not…_

 _But it's not like I've been entirely truthful with him, either…what am I going to do when I find Father…? I'll have to reveal my true title by that point if the hooded man is still with me…_

"This is where our path ends," the hooded man said, and Ceodore, Meghan and Anja peered ahead. Indeed, they had run out of solid ground to walk upon – the rest of the tunnel was flooded in brackish-smelling, begrimed water. Anja flicked her wrist back without even a glance behind her, sending a Thundara strike down upon the head of an Aqua Worm that had started to slither up behind them. The bloated, pale-blue worm let out a hiss and shrank into a wrinkled tube of flesh before decomposing into dust.

"Where's the entrance to the castle?" Meghan asked, and the hooded man let out a low chuckle.

"Just beyond this tunnel, I'm sure," he pointed ahead, where a distant slope was drenched in shadow. "See how the rocks start to elevate? It probably leads to the surface. But for now, we're going to have to swim for it."

"No way," Meghan blanched. "What if something in the water tries to get us?"

"Ceodore and I will take point with our blades," the hooded man offered, and Ceodore swallowed some bile that had crept up from his stomach. Just the smell of the water made him think there were more dead creatures under there than alive, which wasn't as comforting as one would think.

"No more magic, then," Anja said disappointedly. "Can't risk the water conducting any of my spells."

"What…what about Reflect?" Ceodore squeaked. "Can't you cast that on us and then we'd be protected from any friendly fire?"

"I don't know such an advanced spell yet," Meghan pouted. "What about you, Ceodore?"

"No…" Ceodore lowered his head. _Damn! If Mother or Porom were here…_

"You know…with the rate this rain is coming down, the waterway may flood even more if you don't hurry up," the hooded man warned. "Best to just jump in and get it over with." As if to lead by example, he took a leap into the water, and turned around, raising his arms. "See?

Ceodore closed his eyes, forcing himself to jump before he could convince himself that running all the way back to the surface and begging the guard for entry to the castle was a better idea. He gagged as the cold water splashed up into his face, sputtering and trying to spit it out before it could hit his tongue. He was relieved to find that he was at least tall enough that his feet hit the hard floor beneath and that if he stood on his tip-toes, he could easily keep a add a few inches between his face and the water.

The mages jumped in after him, Meghan grumbling under her breath and Anja glaring so intensely that Ceodore thought he would turn to stone if he looked her directly in the eyes.

"See? Not so bad, right?" the hooded man laughed, and proceeded to wade forward through the water. Being the tallest by far of the four of them, he had no issues gliding through the water, as it only came up to his abdomen. "Come, Ceodore…and keep your hand on your blade!"

When they had at last made it back to dry land, having only needing to slay a school of Splashers to cross safely, the hooded man hauled himself out of the water first, and then extended his hand to Ceodore. Ceodore sheathed his sword and climbed out next, collapsing on the ground and practically pressing his lips to it out of gratefulness to be back on solid land. Next came Meghan and Anja, who both stripped down to their street clothes and wrung out their robes, despondently watching buckets of brown water pour out of them.

"Shouldn't be long now," the hooded man said, and turned to climb the slope before them. Ceodore scrambled after him, and the mages trailed behind.

They entered what appeared to have once been an underground bunker, several chambers dug out with long-extinguished torches still stuck into rusted sconces. The palest sliver of light was pouring down from above, giving them just enough light to find the half-rotten rope ladder that was dangling against the most northern wall. Ceodore ran over to it, running his fingers over the rope and flinching when a petrified fiber broke off in his skin.

"This looks like it has seen better days…" He brought his finger to his mouth, trying to suck out the splinter, and turning his head to spit when he had succeeded, the metallic taste of his blood staining the tip of his tongue. "Do you think it will hold our weight?"

"I can cast Float to make us lighter," Meghan offered. "It's not fail-proof, but it will put less stress on the ladder."

"Good idea," Anja nodded. "Let's do it."

Meghan closed her eyes, chanting under her breath, and the chamber bloomed in a gentle white light. Translucent angel wings briefly appeared above everyone's shoulder blades before fading away, and Ceodore felt his feet lift from the ground. He gingerly reached for the rope ladder, and found that he didn't need to secure his feet on the rungs to pull himself up – the weight from his legs had been negated thanks to the spell.

Ceodore made his way to the surface, delightedly taking a deep breath of the fresh air even as a curtain of rain smacked him in the face upon his arrival. Climbing over the small retaining wall that had been built to protect the ladder, he splashed into the castle moat, resisting the urge to belt out a victory tune. Finally, they had made it! The sky had gotten even darker while they had been underground; the clouds so thick and black that it gave the impression night had fallen even though it was only the middle of the day. The shrieking wind that whipped the rain about warbled sinisterly as it passed through the towers looming above.

After the others had joined Ceodore, Meghan cast Dispel, relieving the group of their floating abilities so that they could safely trek through the knee-high water of the moat. Ceodore led them around the corner to the southwestern side of the castle, and was relieved to see that gated entryway that could accommodate a fully-grown man (if one crawled) was currently being left unsecured. He took the key out once more from where he had stashed it inside his breastplate, and pushed it inside the ancient lock. With an audible click, the gate flew open, granting them unfettered access to Baron Castle.

Ceodore could feel the shaking anxiety that had started to become second-nature to him returning to his limbs as he crawled through the opening, half-expecting a soldier to appear above him and bring his sword down upon Ceodore's neck before he could flee.

But instead, the castle was eerily quiet – as Ceodore rose to his feet and looked around, he realized that there wasn't a soul to be found. The ancient waterway passage had deposited them in the western wing of the castle, which had _always_ bustled with activity – it was where all of the soldiers were quartered, along with the royal family, and other nobility that kept rooms in the castle for one reason or another. Even in a storm as fierce as this one, at a minimum a few guards would still be stationed outside – but every post had been abandoned. Another powerful gale of wind and ice-cold rain crashed into Ceodore, causing him to wrap his arms around himself and clench his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the footfalls of the hooded man's waterlogged boots behind him – they were so incredibly loud in the sweeping silence.

 _Something is terribly wrong,_ Ceodore frowned, shaking his head so that his wet hair would fly out of his eyes. _Something must have happened to my parents for the castle to be abandoned like this…maybe they are hiding away from a monster prowling the grounds, scared or hurt…_

He closed his eyes, the vision from the Devil's Road of his father being swallowed by flame flashing through his mind. He scanned the overlook that sat north of the keep, swearing he could see scorch marks embedded in the stone walls, even through the relentless downpour half-blinded him. The wind howled louder, and with it Ceodore could hear his father's screams of agony from high above, carried down to him by the breath of the storm.

Ceodore looked back at the others, who were frowning perplexedly, but didn't seem particularly alarmed by what was occurring. _Why weren't they saying anything?_ Ceodore wondered anxiously. _Couldn't they hear the screams too?_

 _I have to find my family, before it's too late…!_

Not able to think logically any longer, Ceodore suddenly broke away from the party, cupping his hands to his mouth and screaming out into the fierce winds as he ran deeper into the castle. "Father! Mother!?"

The hooded man clenched his jaw, trying to call Ceodore back to him. They were going to quickly attract some unwanted attention if this kept up. What in the world was Ceodore doing, shouting for his parents here?

Ceodore let out a pathetic wail and took in a long, deep breath, nearly choking on the rain as he tried again, his next scream powerful enough to wake the dead.

"FATHER! MOTHER!"

The hooded man approached him from behind cautiously. The boy looked as if he was about to fall away into a dead faint – his face was drained of blood and his lips were turning blue from the chill of the storm. But it was the wild panic etched in Ceodore's eyes that gave him pause from coming any closer – something fearful had ignited inside of the boy, illuminating his gaze so powerfully that the hooded man felt like he was staring into the depths of the crystals themselves. Ceodore looked away, staring back up toward the overlook, although what he was looking for, the man had no idea. He felt his voice start to shake as an inkling of a revelation began to take root.

 _Hallowed light, same as the holy paladin…not realistic dreams, but deadly premonitions…and eyes the same color as our Blue Planet…_

He had to know for sure if his instincts were correct – the time for coy guessing games had passed. In a gentle but pressing tone, he called out to the boy once more. "Ceodore...Your parents are in the castle?"

Visibly shaking with his arms hanging at his sides and still refusing to turn around, Ceodore nodded his head slowly. His voice came out as a defeated whisper. "Yes."

The hooded man took one hesitant step closer, but Ceodore didn't flee deeper into the castle, which he took as a promising sign that the boy was calming down. He had to keep him talking. "What are their names?"

Ceodore's shoulders heaved as if to suppress a sob, and he turned to face the hooded man, trails of rain dripping down his flattened hair and cheeks. "My father's name is Cecil Harvey, and my mother is Rosa Joanna Farrell." He looked down at his feet, watching as the flurry of rain drops created ripples in the puddles that had started to pool around his boots. "My full name is...Prince Ceodore Harvey, of Baron."


	5. Act Five: The Prince's Tale

Act Five: The Prince's Tale | The Guardian

The hooded man knew that his mouth was hanging open and that his eyes were wide with awe, but he made no effort to control himself. He couldn't tell if the dull roar in his ears was from the steadily increasing wind, or from all of the blood making a rush from the rest of his body to his head. Crossing his arms over his chest, he took another long look at Ceodore, shivering and pale in the storm's wake.

 _Of course…why didn't I see it sooner…?_

Ceodore folded his hands together, still staring at his feet. "What's wrong? I know I lied by omission…even after all you've done for me. I just…I didn't know what else to do…I was scared."

The hooded man blinked. _Oh, of course…that would be the conclusion he would come to, wouldn't it?_ He regained his senses, turning away and shaking his head hurriedly. "No, nothing...nothing is wrong."

Ceodore nodded slowly, a strange release of calm from having finally confessed mixing with the desperation to find his parents that was clawing at his insides, about to tear a hole in his stomach. He glanced at the overlook once more, and realized that his mind must have been playing tricks on him from the stress of finally arriving home – he could no longer see scorch marks, and the castle was as silent as when they had arrived – the only screams had been those in his own mind…

Ceodore took a deep breath, looking up at the hooded man. He _had_ to find Cecil and Rosa first – then he could explain everything. "I'm going ahead to check up on them!" He declared, pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes. "I'll be back soon."

"Wait!" the hooded man cried, whirling back around to face Ceodore, who had already pivoted to start running in the other direction. Ceodore paused.

"What is it?"

The hooded man raised his eyebrows, gesturing to the emptiness of the castle. "Watch yourself..."

Ceodore nodded. "I will..." And with that, he fled, disappearing through the doorway in the western tower ahead of them, the door banging wildly on its hinges as Ceodore plowed through it. As the hooded man watched him go, Anja cleared her throat. "Um..."

The hooded man turned to face Meghan and Anja. He realized he had totally forgotten about them ever since the four of them had entered the castle. Both mages were standing on either side of the waterway entrance, staring at him with their arms crossed over their chests. "What is it?"

Meghan looked away guiltily. "Our mission was only to accompany you on your way to Baron."

The hooded man nodded. "That's right."

Anja shook her head. "Something bad is brewing as we speak."

"I'm sorry, but we need to bring word of this crisis to Mysidia," Meghan added.

The man turned away. "Well, thanks. I appreciate the help you gave me. Give Lady Porom my regards."

Meghan and Anja looked at each other as if to say " _Whose_ regards?", and wordlessly took their leave. Just as the waterway gate screeched closed behind them, an exhausted groan drifted across the courtyard, reaching the hooded man's ears.

"Ugh…!"

 _Someone's voice...I can barely hear it. It's not Ceodore's…_

He turned back toward the courtyard to gain his bearings. To his left, there was a doorway that, if he looked closely, appeared to be splashed with the remains of something deep red – like blood. Directly in front of him, there was the entrance to the westernmost tower of the castle that Ceodore had started to climb, and to the northeast, there was an entryway that took you to the overlook high above. Closest to his right was another door that had to have led into the heart of the castle.

 _I guess I'll take door number one, with the obvious bloodstain. Whether it's human or monster, I suppose I'll find out shortly._

Pulling his water-logged hood closer over his head, he jogged over to the door, pulling it open with little effort – it had not been locked or barred in any way. Climbing down a long set of stairs, he found himself in a prison, consisting of three massive cells that were all locked with no sign of the keys anywhere. Inside each cell were at least several soldiers in dragoon armor, all passed out on the floor and in widely varying condition – ranging from some appearing to just be sleeping peacefully to others who were obviously long-dead.

"Hey!" the man cried, pulling out his blade and using the handle to rattle the bars on the cells. "Can anyone hear me?"

But there came no reply…if the moan he had heard was coming from the prison, the person it belonged to wasn't going to wake up any time soon. He traveled down to the other cells, trying to get a reaction, but having no luck. He sheathed his sword, backing away and shaking his head.

 _They must be under some sort of spell…which means Ceodore is in danger! I need to hurry before whatever did this to these soldiers comes after him…_

The hooded man fled the prison, panting for breath as he tried to decide where to go next. The doorway to the western tower had been tightly shut, and now the doorway to the castle keep was wide-open, creaking back and forth in the wind. Surely if Ceodore were looking for his parents, the next place he would try would be the throne room – he must have been unsuccessful in the tower. He decided to follow Ceodore's path and see where he ended up. He ran through the open the door he suspected the prince had disappeared within, running up another flight of stairs and finding himself in the suspiciously empty great hall.

"Ceodore?" the hooded man called cautiously, not too anxious to draw attention to himself. However, no one replied, so he proceeded with sprinting north and entering the next room.

He stopped short as he crossed the threshold, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw what was waiting for him on the other side. On each side of the room, which had been divided into two chambers before leading to yet another door, there was a line of yet more dragoons, staring listlessly ahead. But even though the man had been obvious in his entrance, none of them swiveled their heads or turned to look at him. He took a few steps forward, not wanting to openly reach for his blade in case one of them snapped out of it and perceived him as a threat. Every single soldier's eyes were black as the night, and lacking any semblance of life within. Their faces were pale – just like the guards who had refused Ceodore entry to the castle – and their lips tinted a deep purple. _Poison? Or something else…?_

The hooded man paused in front of one of the soldiers, trying to elicit any kind of physical or verbal response. It gave him no pause that every single one had at least one blade hanging from their hips – he wondered if they could even lift them, they looked so sickly and benumbed.

"Hello?" the man asked. "Are you OK?"

"Your orders, my liege…" the soldier replied back in a monotone.

He blinked. "My orders?"

"Your orders, my liege…"

"What the hell is going on…?" he breathed, taking a few steps back. The soldier continued to stare ahead, not bothering to stop him.

 _Ceodore…!_

The hooded man pushed ahead into the antechamber. It was empty, but if he looked closely, he could see wet footsteps embedded in the rich red carpets – and they looked small enough to be Ceodore's. Pushing open the final set of doors, he found himself in the Baronian throne room.

The red carpet continued up the center of the room, leading to a small flight of stairs and a raised platform that contained the silk-embroidered and golden-gilded throne of King Cecil of Baron. Draped along the northern walls were Baron's banner and swaths of crimson and violet curtains that were layered elegantly and tied back from the massive, floor-to-ceiling windows with golden-threaded tassel tie-backs. Matching golden candle stands as tall as a man lined the aisle way that led to the throne, each lit with three ivory, tapered candles. Because of the raging storm outside, the candles provided the only light in the entire chamber; casting long, twitching shadows that made the hooded man flinch with each hesitant step he took forward. He had the unsettling feeling that he wasn't alone…and he didn't think Ceodore was in there with him.

There was an abrupt crack of lightning outside, briefly illuminating the throne room with a blinding light. Then came the footsteps, calmly and steadily crossing the cold stone floor of the raised platform the throne sat upon. An unsettling creak of armor filled the air as a figure appeared from behind one of the curtains, half-draped in the flickering shadows of the candlelight.

A distant, haughty voice called out. "You are...?"

The hooded man did not answer right away, biding his time. The figure moved closer, and he watched as a pale, elegant hand with a wrist wrapped in ivory bracers draped itself over the top of the throne, sliding down to trace the gilding as the figure emerged from the shadows and took a seat. It was undoubtedly King Cecil – the hooded man could immediately place the similarities between him and Prince Ceodore. Had he seen the king any time recently, he was quite positive that he would have been able to identify Ceodore upon their initial meeting. Both had the same alabaster complexion, the same slender, slightly upturned nose, and King Cecil was even tilting his head similarly to Ceodore as he pressed his fingers against his temple, silently and fluidly crossing one leg over the other as he settled back in the throne.

But it was their eyes that would have been the dead giveaway – the deep, peerless, blue pools that could be frightfully intimidating if turned upon a stranger. But curiously, where Ceodore's eyes had been filled with determined light, even when he had been filled with terror – Cecil's were cold, and dark, glaring so deeply that the man felt as if he were shackled in place by invisible chains. It had become impossible to look away, even if he wanted to – he had been drawn into them, like a kitchen pest lured into a baited trap.

But despite the resentful glare of the king, the hooded man could not help but break into a small smile when he saw Cecil. He hadn't expected the relief in his heart to be quite so evident, and had the situation not been quite as dire, he might have even been compelled to let out a little cheer under his breath. "You're all right..."

 _I wasn't too late after all…_

Cecil raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, pressing his lips together. "Of course I am. I need to be if Baron is going to continue keeping the peace in this world."

The man's face fell, his smile withering away. Surely this wasn't just King Cecil being wary of a stranger who had somehow managed to infiltrate his security. There was something mechanical and controlled about the tone of his voice – it had never fluctuated even once. The darkness in his eyes had become even more pronounced – not even the candlelight was reflected within. The man shook his head slowly, reaching up to pull down his hood. Suddenly, the chill that had been in his bones from the waterway and the storm had become replaced with a stifling, suffocating heat – there was something about the atmosphere of the throne room that made him feel as if he were descending into a hellish pit. "You've changed..."

"Do I know you?" Cecil frowned, watching as the man's hood fell back from his face. It was the first flicker of emotion the man had been able to pick up on from him – _confusion_.

The man pushed the damp locks of hair away from his face, saying nothing as he locked eyes with the king.

For a few tense moments, the room was silent as they stared at each other – even the storm outside had gone dormant. Cecil was the first to look away, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. "If you're just a stray beggar, then please leave immediately. I am a very busy man."

The hooded man turned away, clenching his jaw as he reached back and pulled the hood over his face once more. "Pardon me..."

He turned and walked away, not pausing once to glance back at the king for fear at what it was he would see. Just as the door leading to the antechamber slid shut behind him, Cecil slumped down slightly in his throne, a seizing pain ripping through his left temple as he screwed his eyes shut, clenching his head in his hands.

"Ugh…! Who…?!"

* * *

The dragoon soldiers continued to ignore the hooded man as he retraced his steps back into the great hall. To his surprise, he saw Ceodore running in at the same time from the eastern wing of the castle, his face flushed from exertion. Spotting his comrade, Ceodore ran to him, gasping for breath and shaking his head.

"There's no one here! There were a bunch of soldiers guarding the throne room, but none of them would even look at me. They let me in, but…no one was there, either…"

The hooded man frowned. So, Cecil must have made his appearance after Ceodore had searched the throne room. Intentional or not, it had perhaps been a blessing in disguise.

 _It would be better for Ceodore if he didn't see Cecil in his current state. The look in the boy's eyes when we first entered the castle…I don't know if he'd be able to handle it or understand. Hell, I don't even understand what's going on right now…_

And with that, the hooded man decided to play along with Ceodore's findings – or lack thereof. What was most critical at that point was getting Ceodore as far away from the castle as possible. If Ceodore knew Cecil was here, that would become impossible. "Yeah...looks that way."

Ceodore looked down, and the hooded man could see he was doing his best not to let himself cry. His eyes were rimmed with red, but the tears did not come. "They...did the monsters get them all?"

The hooded man looked away. "Looks to be that way..."

"I couldn't even find Cid's airship, the Enterprise..."

The hooded man raised his eyebrows. That was a bit of good news he wasn't expecting.

"You didn't? Let's just pray he got out safely. Perhaps the others are with him as well."

Ceodore nodded, his mouth set in a straight line. "Let's hope so...Where are Meghan and Anja?"

The man rested his hand on Ceodore's shoulder. "They have returned to Mysidia…they were anxious to report to Porom what has transpired, unfortunately. But now is not the time for you and me to dawdle. Let's get out of here, and we can gather our thoughts elsewhere."

Ceodore merely nodded, and despondently began to lead them out. When they reached the front gates of the castle, Ceodore pushed the doors open, giving the soldiers that were guarding the gate a scare.

"How did you get in here? Leave now!" one of the soldiers barked, and Ceodore rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah…we're leaving…keep your helmets on."

In the same meadow that they had discussed their plans to break into the castle, Ceodore and the hooded man huddled out of earshot of the guards. The rain had stopped, but the hooded man feared they were merely in the eye of the storm – the rushing clouds in the distance told him that more was yet to come – and it would be upon them sooner rather than later.

"So, what are you planning to do now?" he asked Ceodore. Ceodore looked up at him, his hands on his hips.

"Ah, I've already decided. I'm going to look for the Enterprise! There is no way Cid would leave without my parents – his loyalty to my family is absolute. I'm sure if I find the Enterprise, I'll find them."

"Is that right...?"

Ceodore nodded. "What about you? You said you had urgent business in Baron, right?"

The hooded man frowned, Cecil's cutting glare flashing before his eyes. Yes…it probably would be for the best if he remained in Baron…he still had not achieved his objective…

* * *

"Guards! To me, at once!"

Three soldiers burst into the throne room, each taking a sweeping bow before Cecil. He had risen from his throne, and was pacing erratically with his hand pressed to his mouth. The guards took no note of this strange behavior, merely keeping their heads bowed.

"Your orders, my liege..."

Cecil finally paused, lowering his hand and clenching it into a fist at his side. "There was an uninvited guest _right here_ earlier. I don't know how he got in, but…" he shook his head, trying to fend off another spasm of throbbing pain that he could feel making its way first through his chest, then his jaw… Ever since that man had arrived, something ghastly had awoken inside of him…

"Your orders, then..." the soldiers droned in unison.

Cecil cursed under his breath in lieu of a cry as his head was wracked once more by the ache that felt as if someone was taking a chisel to his skull. He angrily kicked a candle stand over and crushed it under his foot, the candles fortunately blowing out as they flew through the air before breaking in half on the stone floor. Even this out-of-character act did not stir the soldiers to any kind of action. "I have never met the man before, but there was _something_ about him..." Cecil drew in a sharp breath. "Go after him. The kingdom of Baron must protect the world's peace – and that man is a threat to our mission. Whether he is brought back dead or alive makes no difference to me. The same goes for anyone aiding him as well."

"Understood, Your Majesty..."

The three guards stood back up, and filed out of the throne room wordlessly, the doors slamming behind them. Cecil collapsed back into his throne, letting out a strangled sigh as his hair fell in his eyes, blanketing him in darkness.

* * *

Ceodore stared up at the hooded man, anxiously awaiting his reply. A reluctant, disappointed part of his heart knew that it was only going to be a matter of time before the two of them needed to part ways – their shared objective of arriving at Baron had come and gone, and there was nothing left for Ceodore in his hometown anymore. He had already started plotting in his head what he would try to do – he had decided that the best way to find the Enterprise would be with another airship, but there was no hope of him accessing any of the extra airships in Baron – they had all seemingly disappeared when he conducted his search along the castle grounds. Either they were hidden away…or someone had taken them.

There was however, a harbor out east that he could use, as long as he could find a ship. If he could convince a sailor in the village to take him out to sea, he could sail to Agart and find an entrance to the underworld, where he knew King Giott of the dwarves held an airship, the Falcon. Ceodore had never been to the underworld, but he knew Giott was a close friend of his father's, and his daughter Princess Luca happened to also be Cid's apprentice. He had little doubt that if he asked, he would be allowed to borrow the Falcon to find his family.

 _I have to do this, even if it means going at it alone. The villagers seem all right for now…If I can bring my parents home, they can break the spell over those soldiers and bring the castle back to normal._ Ceodore's stomach clenched as the reality of the deceased Red Wings really hit him, now that he was back in his homeland and could see how their absence for just two days had allowed this much chaos to breed. _If something else happens while my parents are gone…I won't be able to defend Baron by myself…and I don't know if the soldiers left at the castle would help. I'll need allies…_

The hooded man cleared his throat. "Ceodore…"

Ceodore realized if the man had answered his question, he hadn't heard it – he had been too deep in thought. He followed his gaze, and saw that a group of soldiers were coming out of the front gates of the castle, conversing with the two that were standing guard. One of the guards pointed toward the meadow where Ceodore and the hooded man were ensconced, and the soldiers nodded and began to walk in their direction.

"Looks like our stay here has been cut short," the hooded man said, and Ceodore blinked.

"Huh!? You think they're…after us?"

He nodded, recalling his stilted conversation with Cecil. Whatever was going on with him, he wouldn't recognize Ceodore – he was sure of it. With Ceodore being the only accounted for member of the Baronian royal family, there was no way he could stay here and possibly remain safe. The best-case scenario was that he would be thrown into the prison to rot with the dragoons. _And the worst would be…_

"Come on, let's go."

"Go where?" Ceodore gasped, mentally picturing the perfect plan he had come up with already unraveling like a ball of string bouncing down a flight of stairs. "I..."

The man grabbed his arm, jerking him forward. "Our final destination is northwest...to Mist Cave. We'll cut through the chocobo forest in the south to lose them and get some more distance between us by catching one to ride on. Hurry!"

He began to run, dragging Ceodore behind him. Ceodore cried out as he stumbled, struggling to gain his footing in the slippery grass. He could hear the soldiers starting to catch up to them, shouting to each other.

"There! They're getting away…!"

"No!" Ceodore cried, taking a deep breath and yanking his arm away from the hooded man so he could run on his own. "Why…?"

"Watch out, Ceodore!" the man said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bomb crank – a small, mummified arm from a slain Bomb monster that was shriveled and black, with only a few traces of the original red color of its flesh left. He tossed it behind them, and the meadow, despite being drenched from the rain, instantly lit up into a wall of flames, blocking their pursuers from coming any closer – for now.

Ceodore glanced back as the flames licked the storm-tinged sky. He could hear the soldiers giving up and turning back toward the castle – the fire must have weakened them too badly to keep up their pursuit. As they continued to run, Baron got smaller and smaller behind them, and Ceodore could only bring himself to look away when it had completely disappeared over the hilly horizon.

"Through here, Ceodore," the man instructed, sprinting toward a small forest. Ceodore redoubled his efforts, catching back up to the man and bursting through the darkened, humidity-logged trees. Their footsteps grew quieter as they started trampling rotting leaves and blankets of pine needles, and soon the hooded man slowed down, pressing his finger to his lips as they approached a clearing. Ceodore saw a chocobo – a massive, yellow-colored bipedal bird with shiny black eyes and a sharp orange beak, perfect for harvesting greens from the ground – napping in the clearing, its head tucked under one wing as it snored away, oblivious to its new visitors.

If you were very good at riding chocobos, one could normally catch one in the wild and ride it without a saddle or a pair of reins – even wild chocobos would generally defer to humans when caught and would simply just return home to their forest after they were released.

But Ceodore had never caught a wild chocobo in his life – any he had ever ridden were already wrangled for him and presented to him with proper riding equipment. He glanced at the hooded man, who had an uncharacteristically wicked smile on his face as he crept closer and closer into the clearing.

Launching himself into a front handspring, the man threw himself at the chocobo, encircling his arms around its neck and landing with his legs surrounding the bird's abdomen, bending into a squat so that he didn't crush its spine as he came down. The chocobo squawked and lifted its head, looking around confusedly as it shot up on its legs. The man bounced into the air and laughed, patting the chocobo's head and scooting up closer to its elongated neck so that there was room behind him.

"Well, that was easier than expected…I haven't done that in years! Hop on, Ceodore."

"Uh…" Ceodore frowned. "I can't…do that whole…" he made a circling motion with his wrist and fingers, "…Jumping thing."

"Just give it a try," the man turned, patting the chocobo's rear. "Don't worry, you won't hurt it. This bird is far sturdier than you or I. Chocobos are going to be on our planet long after humans have run each other through."

 _Well, that's a little morbid._ Ceodore sighed, inhaled deeply, and took a running leap. He knew he had jumped far too late as soon as his feet left the forest floor – he went sailing over the chocobo and crashed into a pile of brush instead.

The hooded man burst out laughing as Ceodore surfaced, his whole body aching as he yanked twigs and slimy leaves out of his hair. Ceodore turned red, tossing the roughage aside and stomping out of the brush.

"Is this really the time to be joking!?"

"I'm sorry…" the man shook his head, looking away so that Ceodore couldn't see his failing efforts to stop the laughter from bubbling out. "It's just…you reminded me so much of a friend of mine right then…he couldn't mount a chocobo to save his life either. We even had a bet when we were around your age. He lost and had to let me pierce his ear…hee hee. The look on his face when I came at him with a Cactaur needle…I'll never forget it!"

Ceodore's hands defensively flew up to his own pierced ears, scowling. The man let out a deep, content sigh, allowing himself one last chuckle. "It wasn't stylish back then like it is now. I guess you had to be there." As a consolation, he gave the chocobo a gentle nudge with his foot, and the bird lowered itself so that Ceodore could climb aboard.

Ceodore felt his anger evaporate as he hauled himself onto the chocobo and clutched onto the hooded man's cape. The bird let out a cheerful "WHARK!" and started to rise and sprint forward out of the forest. Ceodore had realized that the man was probably trying to lighten the mood after witnessing the disastrous state of Baron, and the story he had just let slip was the most he had ever revealed about himself to Ceodore. _Maybe he's starting to trust me, even though I lied about who I was_ , Ceodore thought. _I'll apologize to him properly once we've made it to Mist Cave…_

The rain began to come down again as they emerged from the forest and sprinted up north toward the mountain range Mist Cave was tucked away in. Ceodore couldn't temper his paranoia, thinking he heard soldiers behind them every few yards and found himself constantly swiveling his head as they rode. However, the fields behind them were abandoned – not even the local neighborhood monsters that still occasionally appeared to hassle travelers were out in this weather.

"What's in Mist Cave?" Ceodore finally asked, turning his attention to the looming mountains that were getting closer and closer. Long ago, the cavern had acted as a gateway to the kingdom of Damcyan via Mist, a sleepy village to the north that Ceodore knew was once home to summoners – humans who could call monsters from a phantom plane – Eidolons – to their side in battle.

The hooded man looked over his shoulder Ceodore. "A place for us to hide and give us some time to think about our next steps…I'm sorry to say that I don't think it's safe for you to go back to Baron anymore. The guards clearly don't recognize who you are, but now you're on their radar as an intruder. As am I."

"But I had an idea," Ceodore protested, "We just need to find someone in the village that would be willing to let us use a boat, and…"

"Shhh!" the hooded man suddenly hissed, and Ceodore clamped his mouth shut. The chocobo was approaching the entrance to Mist Cave, and standing in front of it was…another soldier.

The hooded man stopped the chocobo, who skidded to a halt and let out a warbling cry. The man hopped down from the bird and offered his hand to Ceodore, but Ceodore swung his legs clumsily and fell off on his own. Groaning as he picked himself back up, Ceodore followed the hooded man to the cave entrance. The soldier who was standing guard looked at them, but didn't reach for his sword, which seemed promising.

"Excuse me…" Ceodore began, but the soldier shook his head.

"No one may pass…Orders from the king…"

Ceodore put his hands on his hips, all pretense of politeness falling by the wayside. "Why not!? There's no way my father would give a decree like that…"

"No one may pass…Orders from the king…"

"Grrrr!" Ceodore growled, taking a step forward to force his way through, but the hooded man pulled him aside.

"All right…" He unsheathed his blade, pointing it toward the soldier while holding out one arm to keep Ceodore back.

"H-Hey!" Ceodore cried, but the hooded man shook his head.

"Brace yourself, Ceodore!"

The soldier's lips twisted into an odd smirk, and a peel of high-pitched laugher released into the air as a cloud of violet smoke suddenly enveloped him, the same rich color as his dragoon armor. Ceodore tried to wave the smoke away, and had to stop himself from screaming when he saw what now stood before them instead – a half-stallion, half-human beast, with silver plate armor on its top human half, and silver-brown equestrian haunches that made up its lower half – a Centaur Knight. Its human arm was raised high in the air with an unsheathed blade, poised to crash down upon the hooded man's head.

"Hah!" the hooded man gasped, bringing his sword up just in time to block the blow. Ceodore withdrew his blade, taking the opportunity to run it through the closest of the monster's four thighs while it was distracted. As blood began to gush from the wound, the hooded man shoved the Centaur Knight back with his sword, causing the monster to stagger. The leg Ceodore had injured gave out, and the Centaur Knight collapsed to the ground, hissing behind its burgonet helmet and dropping its sword.

"Now, Ceodore!" the hooded man shouted, and they both drove their blades into the vulnerable lower-half of the beast, the hooded man smashing his boot into the monster's armored face for good measure. Ceodore pulled back his blade, wiping the rain from his eyes as he watched the Centaur Knight bleed out and eventually explode into dust. The dust mixed with the rain rushing down upon them, creating a murky, clay-like substance that slowly drained into the ground.

Ceodore bent down wordlessly, noticing that the monster's sword had not disappeared along with the rest of him. When he picked up the blade, he felt as if something bitter had been pressed upon his tongue – it was standard-issue from the Baronian armory, a silver and crimson broadsword that bared the Baronian crest in the pommel. When he held it next to his own sword – the one his father had given him from his own days as a Red Wing – he saw they were exactly the same.

Dropping the soldier's sword in the muddled remains of the monster, Ceodore looked away.

"He was a soldier…that was _turned_ into a monster…"

"I figured as much," the hooded man said quietly. "You get a sense for these things, after a while, if you spend enough time with things that aren't human." Ceodore looked up at him, biting down on his lip.

"Do you think the other soldiers in Baron castle are like that too…?"

The hooded man didn't reply. It wasn't just the other soldiers in Baron that Ceodore had to worry about…but of course, he couldn't tell him that. In lieu of answering, he stepped over the discarded sword and entered Mist Cave.

Ceodore sheathed his sword, whispering a quick prayer for the dead under his breath before following him inside.

The Mist Cave was a welcome shelter from the rain, but it was as cold, if not more so, than the ancient waterway – so Ceodore quickly began to shiver once again, rubbing his arms in a pathetic effort to keep his blood circulating. He wished more than anything right now that Anja was with them so she could cast a Fire spell – his white magic wasn't good for anything like that.

Rain water from outside was dripping steadily in random sections of the path the hooded man had started ahead on, making Ceodore wince every time a drop fell on his head. As he skipped up a flight of ancient steps carved into stone that led to a new platform, he felt a tickle in his nose, and let out a loud sneeze. The hooded man stopped and turned around, and right at that moment, a quake rippled through the cave, nearly knocking Ceodore backwards back down the stairs. It had only lasted for a few seconds, but it had been powerful.

"That…wasn't me, was it?" Ceodore sniffed, rubbing his nose.

"Doubtful," the hooded man frowned. "Just…be careful. We'll get you somewhere warm soon so that you don't catch cold. This cave isn't very deep…it shouldn't be long."

Ceodore ran to catch up with the hooded man, noticing that the further they strayed from the cave's entrance, the harder it was getting to see. It wasn't an issue of light – it had been so dark outside that Ceodore's eyes had hardly needed to make an adjustment when they had entered the cavern – but a wispy fog had started to obscure the puddles on the floor of the cave, and it seemed to be getting thicker the deeper they went. Ceodore crept a few paces closer to the hooded man, not wanting to risk losing sight of him.

"Hey…" Ceodore began, wondering if he knew about the fog – but another spell of violent shaking interrupted him. This time, it shook the cave so hard that Ceodore could hear the sound of rocks crashing down in the distance, bouncing against the cavern walls and then going silent – probably plummeting into oblivion deep below.

The hooded man paused, looking around with an uneasy scowl on his face that Ceodore didn't like the look of. He turned to Ceodore, his hands on his hips.

"We need to move quickly. A cave-in down here would be our end…can you keep up?"

"Ah, OK," Ceodore said, a flush crawling up his cheeks – although he couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or a blossoming fever. "Sorry for slowing you down…"

"It's not that," the hooded man frowned. "I'm just watching out for you."

Ceodore brushed past the hooded man and proceeded to cross the bridge ahead of them, wrapping his arms around himself to fight off the relentless chill that just didn't seem to go away, no matter how quickly he moved. The sound of rocks falling echoed throughout the cavern again, and Ceodore blanched as he felt the bridge shudder beneath him. Time slowed to a crawl, his brain relaying the terrifying sensation of his feet slipping from the damp planks of the bridge in slow motion and flying up into the air, his heart leaping into his throat. His brain hit the "fast forward" button, and time sped up once more, sending his body plunging into the darkness below at a dizzying speed.

"Ahhhhh!" Ceodore cried, reaching his hand up helplessly to grab onto something – _anything_. But it was only seconds later that he slammed into something hard, and stopped falling. Closing his eyes, he let out a low whimper, which was all he could manage from having the wind knocked out of him. From above, he thought he heard someone call his name.

"Ceodore…!"

"Ugh…"

What felt like an eternity later, but had only been mere seconds, a loud thump echoed next to Ceodore. He opened his eyes and saw the hooded man standing over him, his hair falling flopping out of the knot at the nape of his neck and falling over his shoulders.

"Can you walk?" he asked. Ceodore grunted as he hauled himself off the ground, the muscles in his lower back screaming as he first settled onto his knees, and then propped himself onto one foot, and then the next. Taking a hesitant step forward, he gave the hooded man a reluctant smile.

"I'm fine…!"

The man nodded, gesturing toward the winding tunnel that was before them. "Good…let's start climbing back up."

The tunnel expanded into an open cavern that was filled with glittering stalactites, some of them several feet thick and taller than even some of the houses in Baron thanks to growing so close together over the millennia that they had eventually merged into one massive, tapered sculpture. All Ceodore could do was imagine what a colossal cave-in there would be if even one of them decided to break off and crash into the ground below – it would have made the quakes they had experienced up above seem like a gust of wind. Cutting across the chasm of the chamber that the stalactites lived in was a massive wooden bridge that would take them to a new tunnel. Ceodore looked up at the hooded man questioningly.

"Someone has actually been down here and built all this? I thought perhaps we had found an unexplored portion of the cave…"

"I as well," the hooded man blinked. "Although, this bridge looks positively ancient – it must have been built a long, long time ago – long before either of our ancestors probably existed. I suppose it wouldn't surprise me if people once lived down here – they would have had to live somewhere to escape from monsters before the concept of a village or a city as we know them had been invented."

"I can't believe there was something that even you didn't know about this cave," Ceodore teased as they started to cross the bridge. "Everywhere we have been so far, you've seemed to know how to navigate with near-perfection. Did you used to travel a lot?"

"Used to?" the hooded man smiled thoughtfully. "What makes you think I still don't?"

"Uh…I don't know!" Ceodore blushed. "Umm…"

"Because when we met, I was selling a fishing pole to be able to afford food and looked like a rogue?" the hooded man smirked, and Ceodore looked away.

"I never said…!"

"I'm just giving you a hard time," he said, shaking his head. "Now that I know you're a prince, it's much more amusing for me to do so."

"About that..." Ceodore sighed. "I'm sorry about not telling you before. What happened in Baron…that wasn't how I wanted it to come out. But whenever I meet someone new, and they find out I'm a prince…I never know if they're being nice to me because they want to, or because they feel like they have to be. When I met you after the accident, you were kind to me without knowing who I was, and I should have told you the truth right away. But…I was also scared, because I didn't know what was happening in Baron. I thought it best to keep my affiliation with the royal family as quiet as possible, given the circumstances."

"Ceodore," the hooded man shook his head, "You don't owe me an explanation. I'm sorry if I reacted in a way that made you feel like that. It was clever of you to keep that particular facet of your identity to yourself – after all, you didn't know who I was."

 _But I still don't…_ Ceodore thought. _…Yet here I am, with my life essentially in your hands. Why is that…?_

After crossing to the other side of the chasm, they were met with another tunnel that had a rather sharp incline. But in the darkness, Ceodore could see a faint blue glow awaiting them at the summit. He pointed up eagerly. "What do you think that is?"

"It looks like the light certain crystals will emit to deter monsters…" the hooded man tapped his chin. "If that's the case, that may be a good place to rest before we continue on. I don't think we're in any danger of being found all the way down here."

They proceeded to climb up the tunnel. Perhaps long ago there had been footholds to help steady whoever would regularly trample back and forth upon it, but time and continuous erosion thanks to the water and mist that had infiltrated the cavern had made just walking up the tunnel nearly impossible – near the top, the incline was so steep that Ceodore had to flatten his body to the rocky floor and pull himself up with his hands and feet so that he didn't hit his head on the ceiling. But once he had finally reached the top, he was able to stand up fully once more – the cavern had opened back up, and he found himself under a dome that was pitch-black, save for the aqua-green glow of hundreds of pulsing lights that were clinging to the ceiling and the walls. At his feet were the blue crystals that the hooded man had predicted were the cause of the light they had originally spotted from the bottom of the tunnel, arranged in a circle around a darkened, depressed portion of the floor that had perhaps once been used as a fire pit.

"Whoa…!" Ceodore gasped, turning in a slow circle to take in the celestial view. "It feels like we're in space!"

The hooded man hauled himself up over the ledge, pushing his cloak back from his head as he looked up in awe. He noticed that the green lights ended in a distinct line about a foot away from the circle of crystals on the ground, and got thicker and brighter the closer they got to the ceiling. Gossamer threads of silk could be seen crossing between some of the brighter clumps of light, creating miniature hammocks of white star bursts.

"I think this is a Noctiluca nest," the hooded man said. "I thought these had gone extinct…"

"What's a Noctiluca?" Ceodore blinked, plopping down on the ground.

"A monster," the hooded man began, and Ceodore scrambled back up to his feet, eyes wide. The man gave him a look, and pointed back down to the floor. Ceodore reluctantly sat back down, and he continued. "It's a cousin of Larva. Do you know what those are?"

"Yes," Ceodore shuddered, remembering the gross squishing and popping noises they had made under his hands when he crawled through the last tunnel of the Adamant Isle Grotto to reach the Knight's Emblem. "So…relatively harmless, then?"

"Yes. These all appear to be mostly eggs…even though they are clearly repelled by these crystals here," he nodded toward the crystals on the floor, "I think they are also simultaneously attracted to the light. The light of the crystals is reflecting off the Noctiluca, and vice versa. It's really quite beautiful…"

"It is…" Ceodore smiled. "…Kind of makes you feel like you are sitting under the stars on a really clear night."

They sat together in silence, their attention captured by the scintillating light show. In the distance, the steady, but soothing drip of the cavern runoff could be heard echoing softly – _pling, pling, pling_. The hooded man reached up, pulling a tattered navy blue ribbon from his hair and proceeding to comb his fingers through the wet strands that had fallen loose over his shoulders. Ceodore glanced over at him, feeling an unexpected pang of homesickness – his waist-length blonde hair was strangely reminiscent of his mother's. He looked up and saw Ceodore staring, offering a small smile.

"To answer your question from before…yes, I used to travel a lot, when I was in the military. I've always been interested in geography too – it helped me strategize on missions. I've been all over the world – but I'm not so old that I've yet seen everything. The only thing I know for sure is that our planet still has many secrets we have yet to uncover."

"You were in the military too?" Ceodore asked, perking up a bit at having something in common.

"I left when the war ended. My family was long-gone before any of the fighting broke out, so I was fortunate in that regard. When it was all over, I decided it was a good time to start over with my life. I thought I would try honing my skills as a survivalist to give myself a challenge. I just happened to be in the Mysidia region at the time when I found you." The man looked back up at the ceiling, scooping his hair back into a ponytail. "Were any of your friends in the accident…?"

"No…" Ceodore shook his head, stifling a sigh. "…I mean, I wasn't in the Red Wings long enough to make any friends...I don't really have any at all. No one really wants to be friends with a prince."

"Why not?"

"I wish I truly knew, but I can only guess. My mother sent me to school in the village, so that I would be with kids my own age and not locked up with the usual castle citizenry. But when I would approach people, they were too shy to talk to me, or some accused me of taking pity on them. Eventually, I just gave up…my parents' friends were always kind to me when they would visit, but otherwise, it was just easier to keep to myself. My parents don't understand – they grew up as commoners."

The hooded man nodded thoughtfully. "Are there any other royals you know that are close to your age?"

"Just Princess Ursula Leiden, of Fabul," Ceodore frowned. "She's nice, but…I can tell she doesn't really like me. I think she just puts up with me because Cecil is her godfather, and she adores him. I just get this feeling every time we see each other that she just wants to kick my backside from Baron to Fabul and back again."

The hooded man laughed so hard that he doubled over as he reached for his ribbon. "If she's from Fabul, it means she's a monk, right? So I suppose that is entirely possible."

"I don't know if she is really a monk," Ceodore shrugged. "I know you have to go through special training for that, and it's not like she tells me anything that's going on with her life. All I know is that she is seriously scary." The hooded man burst into laughter again, reaching up to wipe a tear from his eye after wrapping his hair into a knot and securing the ribbon around it.

"Tell me about your parents. You said in the Devil's Road that you didn't want to be known for your bloodline…do you get a lot of attention because of their accomplishments during the war?"

Ceodore leaned his cheek against his hand. "Everyone thinks I need to be just like my father…strong, noble, and he always knows the right thing to do…it's like he never has to think about anything, he can just make a decision and it will be the right one. It's a big deal in Baron that he's a paladin…the only one in the world, as far as anyone knows."

"So people think you should become a paladin too."

"Yes," Ceodore nodded. _He gets it!_ "It was one of the last things my second lieutenant said to me before he died…that he couldn't wait to see me become a paladin like Cecil. I was so upset, for a multitude of reasons…that people just assumed that was what I wanted…the realization that my father never even told me how he became a paladin…I know he had a trial, but he's never said more than that…"

The hooded man raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

Ceodore nodded again. "There's a lot of stuff about the war my parents don't talk about. They've told me a lot of stories, of course…and I've overheard a lot of stuff from when their friends used to come by. But I think there are some things that make them too sad to remember. Sometimes I catch my father gazing at the moon, and there's this despondent look on his face that I can't decipher."

"And every year, my mother will make a pilgrimage to Fabul to pray to the Crystal of Wind. It's not really a secret, but it's not publicized, either. She prays for the winds to protect her and my father's best friend, who disappeared after the war, so that he can come home safely. He was a dragoon, so she thinks he has the strongest affinity to wind. That's how my mother has always been…kind, patient, and always optimistic, no matter how dark things get. I know people wonder why I'm not showing the talent in white magic that she had when she was my age…but _she_ never pressures me. She just tells me that all blessings come when a person is ready to receive them."

Ceodore pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and propping his chin upon them. "She always sees the best in everyone…even when they don't deserve it…"

He didn't notice that the hooded man had pulled his cloak back up again, his face half-hidden in the shadows cast by the light above. "Ceodore," he said softly, "I know that it's hard to grow up in someone's shadow. Maybe you're not looking for advice, but…you have to stop comparing yourself to your parents. You can't change the circumstances under which you were brought into this world, but you can change your _perception_ of those circumstances."

"What do you mean?" Ceodore blinked.

"What I mean is…you, and the rest of the world, have your parents upon this pedestal. You've painted this untouchable image of them to intimidate yourself, but they are still just human beings. You should get to _really_ know your parents – ask them questions that you're afraid to get the answers to instead of just assuming you know everything they're thinking. You're old enough now to understand the emotion behind some of the decisions they've had to make. Maybe you wouldn't make the same choices they did – but at least being able to understand _why_ that is would be the first step in truly achieving the autonomy you crave. In the end, all that's going to matter is if you're happy with who you are – it is best that you understand sooner rather than later that the expectations others have of you are far less important than the expectations you have for yourself."

Ceodore closed his eyes, clutching his legs tighter. "But…how am I supposed to do any of that? All my life, I've just been told where to go and what to do…it wasn't what I always wanted, but…it was easy."

"Maybe gain a little confidence first," the hooded man frowned, jutting out a finger. "And start taking responsibility – like you did in Baron. The _easy_ choice would have been for you to just go back with those guards when they came after us, right? Yes, I told you to run…I even took your hand and pulled you along with me. But you gained your own footing, and instead of falling back, you kept _running on your own_."

"I did…" Ceodore mumbled into his arms. The man covered his mouth just as a yawn escaped. He was starting to get a better understanding of why Ceodore had his panic attack in Baron…the poor kid's heart was being pulled in multiple, conflicting directions.

"I think that's enough talking for now. Let's get a little rest, and we'll continue on. Does that sound good to you?"

But Ceodore had already fallen asleep sitting up.

* * *

A few hours later, the hooded man shook Ceodore awake. In the distance, the quaking sound could be heard again…and it was even louder than it had been before Ceodore fell off the bridge. Whatever making it was much closer to them down here than it had been on the surface.

"Ceodore…wake up!"

Ceodore's eyes snapped open, his heart beating wildly. "What…!?"

"Shhh!" the hooded man hissed, pointing to the west. Ceodore blinked and followed his finger. To get to the next chamber, they had merely needed to follow the tunnel that led away from the Noctiluca nest, which was thankfully leveled-off in comparison to the tunnel they had needed to climb up in. The chamber was dimly lit, too – which he assumed meant it was closer to where they had originally started on the surface-level of the cave. But even in the failing light, Ceodore could see that something was wrong – small rocks were pouring down from whatever was above the lit chamber and crashing into the cavern floor. Another loud quake erupted, and Ceodore gasped, covering his ears to keep them from ringing.

"It's close!" He cried.

"Exactly," the hooded man nodded. "We've got to get through before something cuts us off!"

"I'm ready!" Ceodore said, climbing to his feet. The hooded man followed suit, and they both started running through the tunnel toward the exit that would take them into the chamber. Upon entry, Ceodore could see blankets of mist hanging above them, and a set of ascending stone stairs…

But the tremors tore through again, so intensely this time that both men fell to the ground. Ceodore's voice rattled as his body was thrashed about.

"It's s-s-shaking even h-h-harder now!" Ceodore gasped, trying to gain his footing.

"But where is it c-c-coming from!?" the hooded man grunted. "It feels like we're d-d-directly above it!"

Large cracks began to bloom in the floor between the two of them, spreading so quickly that Ceodore couldn't scramble to his feet fast enough. Even the hooded man was having trouble regaining his balance – Ceodore realized if something wasn't done fast, they would be swallowed into a massive sinkhole. A piece of the floor broke off underneath his feet, and Ceodore closed his eyes, clasping his hands together as he forced every neutron in his body to imagine himself and his companion soaring into the air.

"FLOAT!"

Just as the floor completely collapsed underneath them, pouring hundreds of pounds of rubble into the abyss below, Ceodore felt the tug of the angel wings that had formed on his shoulder blades, pulling him to safety. The hooded man was hovering as well, staring at Ceodore with a look of shock that was strangely satisfying.

"Let's get out of here!" Ceodore smiled, turning and starting to kick his levitating feet toward the stairs.

"Ceodore, look out!" the hooded man cried. Ceodore turned around just in time to see a dark shadow fall over him – a dark shadow that had twenty squirming legs, and a pair of razor-sharp, clacking pincers. Ceodore lifted his buckler, just barely managing to block whatever it was that struck him, sending him flying backward away from the pit, bouncing off the ground a few times before coming to a stop mid-air thanks to the Float spell.

"Ugh…" Ceodore moaned, pushing himself up and shaking his head. When his vision came into focus, he saw the hooded man exchanging blows with a towering navy, hard-shelled centipede that had crawled out of the sinkhole. It was surely the creature that had been causing all of the quakes throughout the cavern – it looked like it could chew through a pile of rocks with those pincers like a child on a sugar high tearing through candy.

"Ceodore! Are you OK?"

"Yeah!" Ceodore reached down, withdrawing his sword. "Here I come!" He dodged the monster's thrashing tail and brought his blade down across its back, making one quick slash and twisting his body around to do another, carving a green, oozing, but shallow "X" into its flesh. The hooded man swung his sword high over his head, striking with so much force that both of the monster's pincers were severed – that would least take away one weapon it could use against them.

"If we hit at the same time, we can try to cleave its exoskeleton!" the man cried. "But we need to try to strike the exact spot from opposite sides – the abdomen would be best."

"On the count of three?" Ceodore asked, and the man nodded.

"One…"

"Two…" The monster writhed angrily, twisting away from the hooded man so that it faced Ceodore, spraying hot spittle and gods knew what else from the gaping wound on its maw. Ceodore closed his eyes and tried to swipe the burning liquid from his skin, feeling tears prick in the corners of his eyes.

"…Three!"

"Ahhhh!" Ceodore screamed, propelling himself forward half-blind and throwing all of his weight behind his sword. He felt the exoskeleton crack underneath as the blade wriggled in, and nearly jumped in surprise as the tip of the hooded man's blade suddenly emerged from the other side, finishing the job. Their swords came loose as the top half of the monster split from the bottom half, its thrashing spraying the green liquid everywhere as both parts disappeared down the sinkhole, swallowed by darkness. Ceodore gagged from the smell of whatever had gotten on him and rubbed his face with his scarf before casting Cura on the two of them. The magic's soothing light lifted the burning sensation from Ceodore's skin, and when he opened his eyes again, he felt good as new.

The chamber was a complete wreck – the hole in the center of the room had nearly spread across the entire length of the cave floor, leaving very little room for one to shuffle through in order to cross to the other side – but the stairs were still intact.

"You all right?" the hooded man sheathed his sword. "That was fast thinking with the Float spell."

"I'm fine!" Ceodore grinned. "I was able to just picture the spell and…it happened – the first time that has ever worked for me! Do you think that thing was the inhabitant of this cave?"

The man nodded and glanced toward the stairway. "I'd say so...this time, at least."

Ceodore blinked. "Hmmm?"

Once they safely glided over the sinkhole to reach the stairs, Ceodore cast Dispel to remove the effects of Float from their bodies so they could walk properly. Upon closer inspection, the stairs were strewn with piles of rubble – the wall at the top of the stairs had half-collapsed, creating a narrow exit for that they could squeeze through if they pressed their backs to the wall and slid out. As Ceodore broke free, he realized with excitement that he could see light – actual pools of golden sunlight – pouring into the cave from an opening to the north. The storm had finally passed over them.

"We made it back to the surface!" Ceodore exclaimed. But as he started to run, he heard hurried footsteps and voices, and froze in place.

"Ceodore!" the hooded man hissed. He grabbed the boy and pulled him down to the ground, diving behind another pile of rubble that had crashed down from the entryway they had emerged from being split open.

Three Baronian soldiers emerged from the sunlight, their long shadows trailing so close that Ceodore could have reached out and touched them.

"They must have come through here…"

"They must not escape…Orders from the king…"

The hooded man clenched his jaw, whispering, "There they are."

Ceodore heard yet more footsteps, and spotted another group of soldiers to their left, crossing the bridge he had fallen from. "Over there, too!"

"Damn…We're surrounded…!" The hooded man shrank further down in the rubble, but he knew it would only be matter of time until he was spotted. Ceodore was small enough that he could probably stay hidden, but he was far too tall. He was mentally starting to calculate the best plan of attack – did he ambush them and hope that it would be enough of a distraction for Ceodore to stay hidden until it was all over?

"What should we do!?" Ceodore looked up at him worriedly. "There's no way out."

As both groups of soldiers approached rapidly, Ceodore felt a biting chill wrap around his body. He bit his lip as he shivered, pulling his scarf further up over his mouth as quietly as possible. The pale mist that had been drifting along the floor of the cavern had begun to rapidly multiply and rise. The hooded man looked around confusedly, and saw that he could now barely make out the soldiers' approach. "What the…?"

"The mist is thickening!" Ceodore hissed behind his scarf.

"Keep quiet…" the man pressed his finger to his lips.

The guards met up with each other, six in total – unknowingly only steps away from their prey.

"Where are they?" one of them asked, in the same flat voice all of the other soldiers they had encountered thus far had been using.

"They weren't in Mist, either…" another one shook his head.

"So that means…"

"They must be somewhere close to Baron."

The soldiers all nodded in unison, and proceeded to march the opposite direction – back toward the entrance to the cave. When their footsteps had fallen away, Ceodore and the hooded man emerged from their hiding place, watching silently as the mist began to dissipate before their eyes.

"The mist…it saved us," Ceodore whispered, raising his hands and gently trailing his fingers through the foggy remnants that still clung to the air. "How can that be?" The hooded man crossed his arms over his chest, looking down in thought. Ceodore turned to him, dropping his hands to his sides.

"What is it?"

"Oh…nothing," he shook his head, and shrugged. "Let's move before they come back again."

Bursting outside, Ceodore let out an exalted cheer, leaping into the air and pumping his fist toward the late-afternoon sun. The sky was the same perfect blue as it had been when they left Mysidia, and every trace of the clouds that had overpowered the sky had been swept away. Not too far in the distance, Ceodore could see a tiny village – he could only make out a few small dwellings and a cluster of trees. There wasn't a gate, or even a post in the worn meadow path with a sign that said where they were. On either side of the meadow, they were surrounded by the violet-gray mountains of northern Baron, some of the highest peaks snow-capped even in the summer.

"That's Mist ahead of us, right?" Ceodore asked, and the hooded man nodded.

"That's right."

"I thought the mountain east of the village had caved in," Ceodore blinked. "So are we just hiding out here?"

"Nah…we're going to take advantage of the cave-in," the man grinned, and Ceodore's face fell.

"Huh?"

"They wouldn't expect a couple of fugitives to head that way, I would imagine."

"F…Fugitives…" Ceodore blanched. "We're…walking right into a collapsed mountain?"

"That's exactly right." The hooded man started to walk ahead, and Ceodore bit down on his lip.

"Wait a minute!"

There had been something that was bothering Ceodore ever since they left the Noctiluca nest, and he decided it was time to take some of his companion's advice and start asking some questions.

The hooded man stopped, but didn't turn around. Ceodore took a few steps forward, raising his chin and standing up straighter – like he would have done if he were addressing Captain Biggs.

"Tell me…why are you doing all this for me?"

The hooded man whirled around after a few beats, one hand on his hip. His ice-blue eyes locked onto Ceodore's, and the prince couldn't help but shrink back in fear. He had never seen such a cold stare in his life – the lifeless guards' eyes at Baron Castle had been frightening, but to see such intense fury manifest so suddenly before his very eyes…it was like he was looking at a stranger and not the savior who had been the only good part about the worst two days of his life.

"I'm not doing this for you," he said curtly. Ceodore blinked, but couldn't bring himself to respond – the man's eyes had still not left his, and he found himself paralyzed. "There's a man I'm after…someone I have to annihilate, even if it costs me my own life."

"A man?" Ceodore finally managed to choke out. He could feel his body breaking into a cold sweat, his pulse slowing so abruptly that he thought he might pass out right there in the meadow.

 _I've been accompanying someone on an assassination mission this whole time…? And his target was a man that he thought could be in Baron!?_ Ceodore remembered with a nauseating twist of his stomach his observation of how keen the hooded man had been to help Ceodore get inside Baron Castle – and how he had also left him alone within for a brief time. _Oh gods...was he looking for Father!?_

"Who…is he?" Ceodore whispered.

Silence, again. The hooded man's eyes finally left Ceodore, and he glared at the ground, drilling the toe of his boot into a dandelion that was instantly torn asunder, falling limply to the ground to die. He turned his back to the boy, tilting his head toward the horizon.

"A dragoon…ex-Baron."

Ceodore felt as if all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the Misty Valley. When he parted his lips, he found that he couldn't even will his lungs to draw in a breath. He took a reluctant step forward, cringing at how loud his footsteps sounded in the sudden wall of silence that had been erected between them.

"Hey…his name wouldn't be…" Ceodore swallowed a lump of acid that had bubbled up from his stomach. "…Kain Highwind?"

But the man needed not reply – Ceodore could see the muscles in his left forearm visibly constrict when the name fell from his lips, his eyes drifting down to see that the hooded man was clenching his fist. The man's hand was shaking so hard that Ceodore was afraid he would crush his own fingers.

 _The man who saved my life…wants to murder my parents' missing best friend._


	6. Act Six: Rydia's Tale

Act Six: Rydia's Tale | The Eidolons Shackled

 _Mysidia_

Porom burst into the uppermost spire of the Tower of Prayer, pausing in the doorway to catch her breath from racing up the entire tower of stairs in one lengthy dash. Although she was pleasantly surprised to see the Elder still up and about for the day – he had seemingly made a miraculous recovery that morning when she brought him breakfast – she was more so surprised to see Anja and Meghan returned from Baron, each standing a few feet behind him and exchanging troubled looks. When had they snuck in? "Welcome home, you two. What is it, Elder?"

The Elder shook his head, gesturing for Porom to join him in at the full-length window he was gazing through. The spire of the tower in which there was always at least one inhabitant praying – be it for the crystals, a blessing, or a miracle in a time of crisis – was the shape of a perfect circle and had four windows that stretched from the snow-white marble floors to the crystalline dome ceiling, positioned exactly for north, south, east and west. On a clear day, one could see the peaks of Mount Ordeals from the eastern window, which was the closest most residents of Mysidia would ever get to the cursed mountain.

Porom peered outside the window facing the south, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the glaring sun. At first she thought the Elder had been watching the twin moons, the new arrival seemingly larger than it was yesterday, but his chin was tilted down, his palms pressed against the glass. "Elder…?"

"The dragon…it's crying," the Elder rasped, his voice still weak from the near-constant coughing that had plagued him for the past few days. Porom frowned, redirecting her gaze toward the shoreline instead. Even from their distance high in the tower, she could see the white waves of the ocean churning with agitation, swirls of water crashing into each other in the early beginnings of a vortex.

* * *

 _Mount Ordeals, Crossing_

Kain Highwind paused at a gray, barren ledge, narrowing his eyes that were shielded behind the midnight blue helmet he wore, which was shaped like a dragon's head. Astonished at what laid before him, he slammed his lance into the craggy floor of the mountain path so forcibly that sparks burst into the air from the clash of steel against flint, fizzing into nothingness seconds later.

A gust of stinging wind swept through the pass, rippling the crimson sash trailing from his helmet and chilling his ungloved hands as they clutched the lance. The rest of his body was adorned in dragon scale armor the color of the nighttime sea, contouring such to his slender build that it was like a second skin.

He was staring incredulously at the twin moons that had made their appearance over the summit of the mountain, and although his pulse was quickening as the menacing light spilled over him, he realized it wasn't because he was afraid. He didn't know how long it was that he had been asleep – but to wake up to a phenomenon such as this…surely, it was a herald of what would become his ultimate triumph.

For what had been the first time in countless years, his dreams had not been bloodstained nightmares, where he was left for dead or brought to his knees by shadow-clad enemies, begging for mercy and forgiveness. This last sleep…he had risen from the dead like the phoenix of legend, dousing the prison his soul had been entombed in with divine flames, and had become a dragoon knight reborn.

He realized he just needed to bide his time, now…just a little longer, and the path to his reclamation would surely be opened up before him…by moonlight.

A fragile smile curled over his pale-blue lips as he whispered into the wind.

 _"Cecil…"_

* * *

 _15 years prior_

 _Mist_

"Peaceful days have finally returned to our homeland... We have taken up the goals you strove for in life. I only hope that we will receive your blessing."

The group of villagers bowed their heads as their chief finished reciting his eulogy. Before them was a moonstone-colored granite grave marker, with flecks of green and blue crystals embedded within that caught the bountiful sunlight that poured into the Misty Valley every morning. Carved into the headstone was a portrait of an enchanting young woman, whose eyes were closed with lips pursed in prayer. Curled around her bare shoulders was the image of the Mist Dragon, an eidolon that had once been the sole protector of the village before war had broken out. Underneath, a message had been scrawled in elegant script:

 _"Here lies the motherly summoner who protected our village"_

Two soldiers from Baron had slain the Mist Dragon guarding the entrance to the village, and as a result, killed the summoner that had been bonded to that dragon. That same terrible morning, Mist was razed to the ground, and the peaceful, isolated life that the villagers had once enjoyed while quietly bringing their children up in the art of summoning was irrevocably destroyed.

It was nearly two years after the war had ended, and Mist had only finally been able to start really getting back on its feet. Most of the former residents had perished in the great fire, leaving only a few children who had been saved by their parents or fortunate villagers who had been away during the attack to sort through the painful wreckage and begin anew. And the village's undoubtedly most famous resident, a seven year-old summoner named Rydia who had miraculously survived the Baronian assault and gone on to save the world from Zemus' all-consuming darkness, had never been able to bring herself to return for more than a few days at a time during Mist's reconstruction. The heartache of that cruel summer day was still too much for Rydia to endure among ashen shadows of incinerated houses and shallow, hastily-dug graves. Additionally, coming into contact with the villagers who had known her in her previous, "pre-war" life served as a constant reminder that there had been yet more robbed of her than even what Baron's flames of war had selfishly consumed.

When Rydia had left the village, she had been but a child. But when she was swallowed by Leviathan in a disastrous accident on the northern seas, the bizarre time flow of the Feymarch, the homeland of the very monsters she summoned, had aged her body and mind rapidly. The result of her stay in the Feymarch was the spiriting away of nine years of her childhood, transforming her into a young woman in what had been mere weeks in the human world. And whenever Rydia felt that she had finally made peace with that footnote of her life, an innocent question from a village child, or a pitiful stare from one of the few remaining adults reminded her as gently as being pricked by a needle that she was not in fact, over it at all.

But today…Rydia had set aside her fear and apprehension she normally associated with returning to the surface world for two of her most precious friends. She had had a dream that the heir of Baron was to be born very soon, and she yearned with all her heart to be by Cecil and Rosa's side when it finally happened. There had been multiple coronations, a wedding, and many birthday celebrations and revitalizations of nations once fallen in the two years since the war had ended, but a baby was most symbolic of a fresh start to Rydia – something she didn't realize she still had not yet quite achieved for herself until she had had the powerful dream just the night before.

In her dream, she had been walking barefoot along the shorelines of Baron, gazing up at a midnight sky that was sprayed with dazzling stars so close that she was tempted to reach up and try to grab one between her slender fingers. As much she had grown to love the Feymarch, one thing she missed more than anything about the surface world was the ability to see the stars every night, framed by the mountains of the Misty Valley, and make wishes upon them like she had when she was a child.

A tender cry rang out behind her – when Rydia whirled around, a wave washed to shore, spraying her feet with ice-cold water that made a shiver run down her spine. In the distant stretch of the black water that was churning from the low tide, Rydia saw the reflection of not one moon – but two. Following the reflection's trajectory into the sky, she saw their planet's moon, round and full in the sky, and a smaller waxing crescent hanging just below, shining with pure white light reflected upon it from the bigger moon above as they both slowly rose into the sky.

 _"Cecil…"_

When she had woken up, she had known right away what the second moon meant – that the heir to the holy paladin was on his way. And she was convinced that the heir was to be a prince – the all-encompassing ocean that had surrounded her and drowned her senses in its scent told her that the baby was to be a boy, thanks to some of the old wives' tales she had heard as a little girl.

 _But I still can't get over the strange way Asura acted when I said good-bye this morning…_ Rydia was frowning to herself as she quietly approached the gathered villagers – and they were so mesmerized by whatever they were staring at, they hadn't yet noticed her. _Normally Asura would wish me safe travels and tell me to give her regards to the others…but today, all she had said was "Farewell"..._

Rydia pressed her palm over her chest. _Sometimes, I think she can look right into my heart…but I'm terrified at what she thinks she sees…If she even senses a fraction of doubt about my being in the Feymarch...will she think me ungrateful for my time there? The Feymarch became my home when I had nothing left; the King and Queen my family. Nothing can ever replace that…_

One of the villagers had lifted her head and spotted Rydia out of the corner of her eyes, gasping. "Rydia!"

Rydia offered a reluctant smile and waved. "Greetings! What is everyone looking at?"

The villagers instantly parted down the middle, as if the question had come from the Queen of the Eidolons herself. Rydia felt her heart falter as her eyes fell upon the gravestone; the image engraved upon it so similar to her own appearance that for a moment she thought she had stumbled into the future and had encountered her own final resting place. But as her eyes traveled down to the entwined dragon and the inscription, she realized that the face she was staring at was not hers – but her mother's.

"Mom…" Rydia whispered, her smile instantly fading into the aether. _That's right…Mommy had me so young. She would have been the age I am now, eighteen, when she gave birth to me. She was only twenty-five when she died…no wonder we look so similar now._

"W-Welcome home, Miss Rydia," a small boy smiled. "We just said a prayer for your mother, and you appear like this…what a blessing! We missed you."

Rydia didn't respond – she had silently sunk to her knees before the gravestone, her fingers pressing into the lush, freshly-sprouted grass that had miraculously grown back from what had been previously scorched earth. Even though most of the world was under a cold snap from the mid-winter months, Mist had always had its own odd weather patterns – even before the catastrophe. Insulated away in its own valley, there could have been a raging blizzard just south in Baron or a desert storm due east in Kaipo, and Mist would just be experiencing another sunny, spring-like day. Scholars who had tried to study it came up with nothing rational, and the residents of Mist were simply raised with the understanding that because of their intimate connection with the Feymarch, it was entirely possible that their little village was on a plane of its own. To them, that was as acceptable an explanation as anything else.

The village chief, an elderly man with a red and white-flecked beard that dragged past his feet, saw the look of concern on Rydia's face and folded his hands nervously. "What's the matter, Rydia? I thought you were supposed to be in the Feymarch…had we known you were visiting, we would have waited for you…"

Rydia managed to shake her head to silence his worries, but was still confused about another matter altogether. In terms of a tribute to her mother, she couldn't have dreamed of anything better or more fitting, nor would she have wanted the villagers to wait on her to erect such a memorial to their village's former guardian. She had been important to all of them, after all – not just Rydia. The gravestone was absolutely beautiful – the artistry that had gone into the portrait of her mom alone must have cost thousands of gil, and even the little man-made pond the grave was positioned next to it had been restored to perfection, once destroyed by the fire when it had filled up with rubble and ash slurry. The clear blue water was sparkling in the sunlight with a rainbow of flowers – hyacinths, lilacs, lilies and more – planted along the banks. Her mother had loved to teach the village children about summoning arts next to that pond, and would even summon little water sprites from the depths for them to keep as pets. But the restoration of the pond would surely have to have been pricey as well, since there were no villagers that could have possibly been skilled enough to complete the work on their own – they would have needed to hire an engineer from another kingdom, like Baron.

"How could Mist possibly afford this?" Rydia blinked. "With the restoration costs of the village and everything…"

"It was an anonymous benefactor…" the village chief began, and Rydia lifted her head, suddenly hearing new footsteps approaching. Whipping her head around, she saw a delightedly familiar sight – it was King Edward of Damcyan, dressed in his usual bard attire for getting around unawares, his wavy blonde hair tumbling over his shoulders and practically glowing in the sunlight. With his pale features, wide, doe-like brown eyes, and pale pink lips, he could have easily been mistaken for a forest nymph. He was flanked by two guards in black uniforms that were a few steps behind him, each of which looking a little bewildered that they had wandered into such an unusual little village.

"Edward!" Rydia cried, rising to her feet and running over to him. Before he could even greet her, she had thrown her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder and taking in the soothing scent of his leather vest and rose cologne. Edward laughed and gave her a chaste kiss on her forehead, pulling back to give her an once-over.

"How long has it been, Rydia? I'm so glad to see you well! You grow more beautiful every time I see you."

"Edward!" Rydia blushed. "Well, I suppose it's been near seven months…so the answer is too long. What brings you here today?"

Edward smiled. "I've been traveling quite a bit as of late – surveying just the right spot to put the new harbor that is being installed south of Kaipo. With Harley keeping down the fort, I've been able to move much more freely than before. I thought I would stop by to see if there was anything else I could do to revive the fortune of this village since I was in the neighborhood."

Rydia bit down on her lip. "But doesn't Damcyan have it hard enough right now?" Last year, she had not been able to attend Damcyan Castle's restoration celebration due to a troublesome interloper that had taken on Rydia's identity to …well, no one had really figured out what her objective was, and Rydia had ended up obliterating her, with no further trouble occurring after the fact. But Rydia knew just from keeping up with what she could of the surface world's news that rebuilding Damcyan castle had just been the beginning of many more efforts the kingdom would have to go through to function as it once had – they too had been victims of Baron's treachery during the war. Unfortunately, the initial basis for Rydia and Edward's friendship was that both of their hometowns had been bombed by Baron, and had lost everything as a result – Edward's parents and his fiancée had been murdered, just like Rydia's mother and village friends.

Edward shook his head. "Don't worry. Damcyan has many citizens to help aid in its reconstruction. Those of us with power, like Cecil and I, must think about more than just our own lands. We worry over the fate of villages like Mist, too."

"Cecil, too…?" Rydia trailed off, glancing back toward the gravestone. Edward peered over her shoulder, and crossed his arms over his chest. _That_ was new…and he knew it hadn't been Cecil who had had it installed, based on the conversations they had shared about who would provide what aid to Mist. Baron had made most of their contributions nearly right after the war, sending white mages to Mist to heal the sick and injured and having paid for most of the home and shop restorations. Edward had stepped in after the fact; since he had needed to navigate Damcyan through its own crisis first…he was very curious about where the funding for such a beautiful memorial had come from. If Harley had signed off on such an expense, he would have surely heard about it.

* * *

 _Eblan Castle_

"Your Young Highness!"

Edge cringed as he turned to face the one man he both loved and hated most in the world. He thought he had been quiet enough, padding gently on the plush carpets of the Eblan throne room so that no one would realize he had left his throne. But somehow, that crafty bastard, who was a million years old and half-deaf, could pick up on Edge's exit from a room away and had managed to come strolling out at _just_ the right time to catch him in the act of leaving.

Seneschal folded his hands behind his back, peering at Edge with narrowed eyes (he was going half-blind too, but did it really matter when he seemingly had eyes in the back of his head?). "Where might you be going?"

Edge laughed a little too loudly and waved his hand. "Just for a little training session."

Seneschal raised his eyebrows. He didn't believe a damn word of that, but he had actually had another bone to pick with the king today, so he let it slide, for now. "I have heard for many of Eblan's great treasures are being sold for profit."

 _Well, this lecture took a little longer to happen than I had originally thought…maybe Seneschal is slowing down just a bit._ Edge put his hands on his hips. "And why not? What's wrong with using Eblan's treasures to help with Eblan's recovery?"

Seneschal snorted. That was as close as he would get to being defiant toward King Edge. "I can only hope that proves to be the case, Your Young Highness."

Edge rolled his eyes, like their conversation was the biggest waste of his time in the world, and turned back around to saunter away. As soon as his back was to Seneschal, he could feel the blush that always crept over his ears when he stretched the truth just a bit, and tugged up on his cowl to make sure his face had maximum coverage. "…Anyways, I'm off."

* * *

"Of course, Cecil too!" Edward exclaimed, tearing his attention away from the gravestone and looking back at Rydia. "I have word that Fabul is providing vast shipments of vital resources, too."

"Even Yang…!" Rydia shook her head, tears starting to blur her vision. _Yang, who had a newborn princess and a kingdom of monk acolytes that he needed to train up on his own, was thinking about my little village…?_

"Rydia…" Edward frowned, reaching up to gently brush away a tear that had slid down her cheek. "It was all thanks to your help that we all made it through the last war…we all owe you dearly."

Rydia sniffled and folded her hands together, a smile slowly blooming on her face. She remembered the terrifying final battle against Zemus, and how she, Cecil, Rosa, Kain and Edge had stood together during their final moments on the moon, knowing that after going through an ordeal like that, there wasn't anything in the world that could possibly overpower the faith they had had in each other – the faith that had steered them through Zemus' vile hatred unharmed. Yes, time and distance had started to put a strain on what once was, but Rydia was vowing to reverse that – that was why she had returned today of all days, after all. _A fresh start…_

 _We don't have to travel together or have a common enemy to get back what we had,_ Rydia told herself. _I believe in us…Asura would call me naïve…but she just doesn't understand the human heart, right?_

Rydia touched Edward's shoulder. "Don't be silly…everyone helped each other back then."

* * *

 _Baron_

Cecil was standing against a wall in an empty chamber of the west tower of Baron Castle, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes silently followed Cid's husky form as he paced and back forth frantically, well on his way to wearing a hole in the carpet that marked the path he was grinding into it with his massive, oil-stained work boots. The late-afternoon sunset was pouring through the windows, casting pink and gold patterns upon them and the floor. Other than the steady ticking of a clock hanging in the far corner and the hurried shuffling of Cid's feet, the chamber was entirely silent.

Cecil was getting dizzy from watching the old man dither about and finally let out a sigh loud enough to distract Cid, causing him to pause mid-step and look up.

"Calm down already, Cid."

"I can't believe you're taking this so lightly, Cecil!" Cid huffed, shaking his fist. "She's been at it for half a day now!"

Cecil ran his fingers through his hair for what had probably been the hundredth time that day, and shook his head. Like _he_ hadn't been counting the minutes since Rosa's handmaiden had burst into the throne room in the middle of his daily briefing with the Red Wings, screaming that Rosa's water had broken while she was trying to help the poor queen dress for the day. As of that morning, Rosa had been a week past the due date that her midwife had originally predicted, and looked as if she had taken to swallowing watermelons whole for every meal, her stomach was so swollen. She had never exactly warmed to the idea of having handmaidens after she had become queen, but had now needed them for the most simple of tasks – including bending over to put on a pair of shoes, now that her stomach dwarfed the view of her own feet.

"What should I do!?" Cecil had cried, leaping from his throne and ready to follow Penelope up to his and Rosa's bedchamber.

"Stay out of the way!" Penelope barked, and fled as quickly as she had appeared. Cecil blinked as the Red Wings, including Biggs and Wedge, started to laugh mercilessly.

"Best leave this to people who know what they are actually doing, your highness," Wedge giggled.

"Yeah, you did the only part you were good for already!" Biggs snickered, and the group roared again.

"Ugh…" Cecil groaned, recalling the endless teasing that had gone on for the rest of the morning until he had been able to make his leave. Suddenly, a door slammed open, and a petite figure wrapped in green silk appeared, her hair wild and streaked with melting snowflakes.

"Is it over yet?" Rydia gasped, slapping her hands on her knees as she bent down to catch her breath. "Oh gods…why is this castle so big…?"

"Rydia!" Cid exclaimed. "Girl, you came all the way here from the Feymarch? How did you know…?"

"Here for the big day, huh?" Cecil asked, grateful for the distraction. Rydia exhaled deeply and nodded, finally able to talk again. She ran to Cecil, and they pulled each other into a tight hug.

"I had a dream all about it!" Rydia exclaimed, looking over Cecil's shoulder at Cid. "Has the baby been born!?"

"Well..." Cid began, but there came another interruption – this time, a high-pitched, infantile wail coming from the floor above.

"Wahhh! Waaahhh!"

"Rosa!" Cecil cried, breaking free from Rydia's embrace and bolting up the stairs in a blur. Rydia and Cid looked at each other, and Cid laughed, scratching his head.

"And I thought he wasn't worried…Cecil is still too cool for his own good sometimes…he can even trick me, after all these years…"

"Oh, come on!" Rydia grabbed Cid's hand, practically dragging him up the tower stairs. "We've gotta meet the baby!"

Rosa was curled up in her bed under several layers of sheets, her hair pulled back into a half-ponytail and her cheeks flushed as she gazed up at Cecil, a blissful grin on her face. Cecil was grinning back, clutching her left hand within both of his. Her right hand was resting protectively over the squirming bundle of blankets next to her on top of the sheets, which the midwife had just gently deposited after completing the cleaning and swaddling. Rydia leaned in anxiously on the other side of the bed, taking in the baby's beautiful pearl-white skin and stunning blue eyes – eyes that resembled the Blue Planet itself as it could be seen from the moon – just like Cecil's. A tuft of platinum blonde hair that was so fine it was nearly white was sticking straight up from the baby's head. The baby flicked its gaze up toward Rydia, and she could swear she saw a smile form on its rosebud lips.

"It's a healthy baby boy!" Rydia squealed, and Rosa looked to Rydia with wide, but happy eyes.

"Yes…How did you know…?"

"Just a hunch," Rydia giggled, and Rosa laughed softly. Of course…how could she have forgotten about Rydia's incredible sensatory abilities? She wondered if she should have asked Rydia long ago what she thought the baby would be instead of keeping herself and Cecil in suspense the whole time. The whole of Baron had seemed to be holding its breath, wondering if it would be a prince or princess born among them.

"You did us proud, Rosa!" Cid exclaimed. "He's absolutely perfect…"

"Thank you, Rosa," Cecil breathed, and leaned in, cupping her face with his hands and pressing his lips to hers. Rosa closed her eyes, leaning in closer as Rydia and Cid exchanged sly looks.

The baby let out a sleepy gurgle, and Rosa broke away from the kiss, scooping the baby up in her arms so that everyone could get a better look while she began to gently rock him. "Heh…" Rosa giggled, kissing the tip of his nose. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him, and wondered if this irresistible feeling was what it was like to fall in love all over again. She had never seen Cecil when he was a baby – not even in photographs or portraits – but she knew that he had to have looked exactly like the child in her arms now.

Rydia bounced up and down on her heels excitedly. "So, do you have a name?"

Cecil turned to face her, smiling. "Yes. We've already picked one."

Rydia clapped her hands together. The suspense was _killing_ her. "Oh? What'd you decide on?"

Rosa brushed the baby's hair back as he closed his eyes, his cheek gently falling against her breast. "Ceodore. After Cecil's mother _and_ his elder brother."

"Hmm! I like it!" Cid nodded, stroking his beard. It was an unusual name, but somehow…it fit the little prince perfectly. He watched as Cecil kneeled down next to the bed, extending his arms. Rosa gingerly handed Ceodore over, and Cecil pulled him close to his chest, closing his eyes and lowering his head. His silver-white hair fell over his face like a curtain, obscuring his face from the others. Rydia could swear she saw a tear slide down Cecil's cheek – she couldn't remember the last time she had seen the usually serious knight cry – and thought perhaps she had never seen him cry out of pure happiness. It was a humbling sight to behold, and she almost started to sob along with him.

 _Mom…for me, it feels like you have been gone for over a decade, but for the rest of the planet, it's only been two years. And in those two years…so, so much has changed._

 _Cecil, Rosa, Kain and Edge…They, along with King Leviathan and Queen Asura, became my new family in your place…but still, I condemn myself to isolation in the Underworld. I want to be with my friends again…someday, I'd like to think that I'd want what Cecil and Rosa have…_

 _But the Feymarch is free of the rage of men; there is naught but peace and tranquility. I'll never find a sanctuary like that on the surface world, even with my friends..._ Rydia recalled the traitorous heartbreak Kain had once rendered upon them all, and the untimely death of dear Tellah, who had been so kind to her when she had been newly-orphaned and mourning her mother.

 _Will I ever find a place to call home that has everything I want? Does such a place exist anywhere in this universe?_

Rydia reached up, discreetly rubbing the tears away from her eyes before they could escape. She was sure no one had noticed – all eyes were on the new prince, after all. Fastening her smile back onto her face like one would tie a ribbon to their hair, Rydia pressed her palms together. "Nice to meet you, Ceodore!"

 _You are so lucky, Prince Ceodore…to be loved and adored by so many from the very moment you came into this world. Cherish it…cherish every precious minute…my wish for you is that you will know happiness with your family for the rest of your days._

 _And Cecil…it's my wish for you too. My dearest friend…I hope your heart finally knows peace._

* * *

 _Mist, one day after the moon's return_

"Rydiaaa!"

A group of children burst into a small cottage in the northeastern side of the village, with no regard for knocking or any other kind of privacy. The village chief, who had been frying chocobo eggs for breakfast and whom shared a home with the missing-in-action summoner, nearly jumped out of his robes as he whirled around.

"Mother Gaia! What is this all about?"

"Hey, _where's_ Rydia?" a girl in red pigtails pouted. "She's normally up by now! We have to have our lessons! She promised to tell us about summoning chocobos…"

The chief laughed and shook his head – he couldn't be mad at them even for nearly giving him a heart attack with their panicked shrieking. The child was right about their missing teacher…Rydia had become someone to whom all the village children had become deeply attached, and she had put them on a routine that you could set a clock to. In a village like Mist, monotony was treasured far more than anything else, and Rydia had given them that precious gift in spades. But today, the children were destined for a bit of disappointment. The village chief was a little surprised that Rydia had not said anything to them, but even after all these years living as housemates, she still was as enigmatic as ever – he could tell there were still several secrets she kept close to her heart to which no one else was privy.

"She doesn't normally do this, but she's taken a trip back to her other homeland."

"Her _other_ homeland?" a blue-haired boy blinked. He, like the rest of the children who had come clamoring in, were all too young to know of the Rydia who had only been an occasional visitor of Mist. For as long as they had all been alive, Rydia had been a fellow villager and mentor.

The chief nodded. "Yes. The Feymarch. Now, if you settle down and set the table, I'll make you breakfast and tell you all about it. That will be your lesson until Miss Rydia returns."

* * *

Rydia could see her hand shaking on railing as she stared down into the darkness below. Behind her, there was the usual hushed activity that was characteristic of the Feymarch Library – monsters of various shapes and breeds (dragons, goblins, bombs, just for starters) were gathered around polished tables, dusty tomes opened before them while some simultaneously scribbled into notebooks. The head librarian for as long as Rydia had known of the Feymarch's existence, a demon whose yellow eyes were all you could make out from underneath the voluminous purple cloak he wore, was behind the checkout counter stamping due dates into books as an eager chocobo held out a knapsack with its beak. When Rydia had made her entrance, no one had disrupted their activities to even look up at her – they were far too engrossed in studying, and Rydia was the one human that had become a regular fixture in their lives.

Although, perhaps with the way time flowed within the Feymarch, they hadn't noticed that Rydia hadn't been there for quite a long while…

Rydia took a deep breath in an effort to calm her nerves. Although she had originally intended to stop by just for a visit – it had been a few years, after all – the appearance of the second moon the day before had solidified her resolve to speak with the Eidolon royals sooner rather than later. She had been surprised that no one else in Mist village had really been alarmed by its appearance, but then again...most of the adults in the village now had been mere children when Mist had burned to the ground, and they could hardly remember what had transpired during the war, let alone understand why the return of a second moon could be a concern. The other adults, like the village elder, had little, if any, magical prowess and connection to the planet that Rydia had as a summoner. As a result, they tended to only be worried about such matters if Rydia told them to be. Not wanting to stir the village up into a tizzy and then abandon them, Rydia had chosen to save her panic for the King and Queen.

 _Perhaps they will tell me it is nothing_ , Rydia thought as she took a cautious step down one stair, and then another, cringing at the creaking sound that emitted from underneath the heels of her leather knee-high boots. _But it seems an unlikely coincidence that the moon suddenly appeared around the time I was planning to visit the Feymarch…I know better than to take such omens lightly…_

On her way to the Feymarch, she had been silently contemplating the troublesome situation of this new moon in the Falcon's hold while Luca had been piloting the airship. The feeling Rydia had gotten upon first laying eyes on the moon yesterday morning was the exact opposite of what she had felt when she had dreamt of a second moon nearly fifteen years ago, the night before Prince Ceodore had been born. Fifteen years prior, she had felt the lightness of hope and renewal, like she could have skipped across that moonlit sea in her dreams as effortlessly as a blessed daughter of the water gods. Yesterday morning, the dread had settled into her stomach like a lead brick, and she had to fight the urge to be sick right there in her bedroom.

It felt significant that her old dream had popped into her mind as soon as she became aware of the new moon's existence, and her brain was in overdrive trying to understand the connection. She never forgot a vision – like her half-Lunarian friend Cecil, her summoner blood was prone more to premonitions than the dream states that normal humans had – so she knew her spiritual instincts were trying to convey _something_ to her. But what was it? She could only pray Leviathan and Asura knew – as Eidolons, the very purest essence of magic, their ability to comprehend such prophecies was far superior to hers.

Before Rydia knew it, she found herself at the bottom of the stairwell, and in the entryway of Asura and Leviathan's throne room. It brought Rydia great comfort to see that nary a thing had changed in the time she had been away – the gold-plated and marble-walled chamber was still a tribute to overwrought opulence and decadence that Queen Asura laid worship to, with overloaded shelves of treasures lining the walls, some so heavily stacked that they bowed under the weight of the trinkets upon them, but miraculously never broke. They held weapons, bejeweled glasses filled with ancient potions and perfumes alike, baubles and leather-bound volumes that looked more at home in the library above than among such precious artifacts. But Rydia knew from her time living in the Feymarch that those books had contained some of the most ancient secrets and history of the Eidolons and their summoned monster kin, and had been given permission to flip through them at her leisure. Unsurprisingly, she couldn't read a word they said, and most of the pages were so aged that the paper would dissolve in Rydia's fingers if she did not take care turning them.

Leviathan's throne was a stark contrast to the luxury around him – although his true form was a serpent who had a penchant for roaming the northern seas and occasionally dragging sailors to their deaths, he spent most of his time curled up in his ancient, threadbare throne that looked as if it had been perhaps salvaged from one of the ships he tortured back in his more active days, reading from a pile of books he frequently borrowed from the library. Asura's throne, however, was a pile of silky, jewel-toned pillows that glimmered in the light given off by the countless glass lamps lit around the room and the magma reflecting off the glass floor below. Asura splayed in the throne more so than sat – today being no exception. Her canary yellow wrap dress, which was so sensuously wrapped around her curves that it could have been painted on, was spilled over the pillows, creating an effect akin to the sunset against a twilight sky.

Rydia noticed that as she stepped from the shadows, Asura's hand fluttered from where she had been weaving something in her lap and flew to her chest, her fingers idly twisting one of the diamonds dripping from the heavy necklace that hung from the length of her neck to just above the pale swell of her breasts.

"Your Majesty..." Rydia trailed off, bowing deeply before Queen Asura. She resisted greeting King Leviathan or even looking at him, abiding by the Feymarch's rule that one should not speak to the king without Queen Asura's permission. It had been a rule Rydia had once been exempted from, but now…

But Leviathan was entertaining no such pretenses today. Rising from his throne, he set his book aside and clapped his withered hands together, his beard tangling with his tattered robes as he stepped forward to greet her. "Oh! Rydia, my child! Much time has passed since we last met."

Asura pressed her lips together, which were stained the color of over-ripened mahogany cherries, and narrowed her violet eyes into slits. "Why are you here?"

Rydia felt her words get caught in her throat, and averted her gaze. Everything she had mentally practiced wanting to talk them about was wiped clean from her mind, like a teacher running their eraser over the day's lesson on a chalkboard. _No notes? Too bad!_

Asura pulled herself up from the pillows, a feat that would even have the most graceful of human women stumbling for leverage, but for her was as fluid a movement as a pirouette across a stage. Stepping directly into Rydia's line of sight, she drew herself up to her full height and glared down at the summoner, her hands cocked at her hips and her exposed right breast heaving with tight, controlled breaths. Rydia couldn't bring herself to look into the queen's penetrating glare, so she had to settle with staring at her chest, a flush creeping up her cheeks.

"Have I not made it clear enough? You are not welcome here in the Feymarch anymore."

Rydia clenched her eyes shut, forcing herself to say something… _anything_. "I'm sorry. I...I just wanted to see everyone...and I have need of your consul…"

Asura shook her head, her shoulder-length earrings whipping so hard that Rydia feared she would lose an eye if Asura got much closer. "Now that you have seen them, it's time for you to leave."

Rydia turned away, clenching her fists. _They won't even listen to me…!_

"In case you have forgotten, you are not a citizen of Feymarch, Rydia."

Rydia's lower lip began to tremble uncontrollably. Totally forgetting about the twin moon and the pained sense of urgency she had felt all morning until Luca had finally deposited her at the entrance to the Feymarch, all she could think about was how she had used to have a bedroom in the very chamber below where she was standing, where she had been raised with love and grace from a seven-year old orphan to an eighteen-year old woman by the very two figures before her. She could feel loose strands of hair tangled painfully in the ruby hyacinth hairpin she had nestled against her scalp, gifted to her from Asura's collection of treasures when she had first opened her eyes in the Feymarch and was terrified she had died and awoken in Hell. She whirled back around, taking a hesitant step forward. "But...! Can't I at least come back to visit every now and then? You won't even let me do that?"

"We cannot," Asura hissed. "You don't belong here. We've discussed this."

"I…!" Rydia whimpered.

 _I thought enough time had passed…_

 _I know now that you could sense the doubt in my heart when I got home from seeing Prince Ceodore all those years ago, and you wanted me to return to the surface world so I could try my chance at happiness as a normal human girl. I didn't understand your reasoning then, but I did later on…I just needed the time to realize it…_

 _But then when I told you a few short years ago that I finally understood what you were trying to do for me, you told me to take heed of my lesson and never return._

 _I can't believe you really meant that…and I still don't…! Please, tell me what I did wrong…my heart still does not belong entirely to the surface…and I fear it never will!_

Leviathan turned to Asura, frowning in pity behind his massive beard. "Rydia is like a child to us. Surely it wouldn't hurt to let her come by..." Asura shot him a glare that could have lit him aflame right then and there had she willed it.

Rydia stood helplessly before the King and Queen of the Eidolons in their chamber, feeling as if someone had taken her heart and squeezed until it had burst into nothingness. But despite the queen's cruel words, she would not let herself cry – she would not give Asura the pleasure of witnessing her in an emotive state, which she knew the queen would consider a weakness of humans like herself. As she straightened her spine and raised her chin defiantly, she noticed that Leviathan had paused, not looking at either Rydia or Asura. He cocked one overgrown, wiry gray eyebrow and stepped forward, his face falling.

Rydia suddenly forgot about her tough-girl act and rushed to Leviathan, fearful that he was about to collapse, for he had turned white as a sheet in a matter of seconds. She broke one of the Feymarch's most sacred rules, and spoke to him without having gained Queen Asura's permission first.

"What is it?" Rydia whispered, grasping his hands in hers. She was shocked to feel an agitated tremor, and realized that it was coming from Leviathan, and not herself.

Leviathan shook his head, and finally brought his gaze to Rydia's. She saw her diminutive form reflected in his cloudy violet eyes, and realized that although he was looking at her – he was not _seeing_ her. Something else had captured his attention.

"No…listen, my dear Rydia, you must leave here at once."

"What?" Rydia blinked. "Why all of a sudden!?" _Can't we even talk about this?_

Asura pressed her fingers to her lips, closing her eyes. Instead of becoming enraged with Rydia like she had been only moments before, she instead offered the summoner a delicate smile.

"There is nothing to fear."

As Asura spoke, she opened her eyes again and reached up, bringing her fingers from her lips to her left temple and resting them there. Unconsciously, Rydia mirrored her, reaching up and brushing her fingers over the ruby hyacinth hairpin that was nestled in the untamed waves of hair that poured down her shoulders in a cascade of emerald.

Leviathan formed a blue orb of light between his cupped hands, and quickly tossed it at Rydia. Before she could run away, she felt the light wash over her, binding her arms and legs to her sides and paralyzing her from the neck down. She opened her mouth to cry out, but was spirited away from the chamber in a flash of blinding light before the scream could even escape her throat.

When Rydia opened her eyes, her head throbbed so painfully that she feared she was concussed. She found herself on the wooden plank-lined streets of the Feymarch village, tossed only a few yards away from the gaping maw of the cavern that would take her back to the underworld. Climbing to her feet, Rydia grimaced at the scrapes that streaked across her upper thighs; some of them lined with tiny dots of blood, and could feel the dull pulse of bruises starting to form all over her body.

The green and golden-plated, v-necked leotard she had chosen to wear due to the oppressive heat of both the surface world's summer thus far and the journey through the underworld had done little to protect her from her rough landing. The sleeves that ran down the length of her arms had gotten torn and the exposed flesh of her hips and torso was starting to turn red with inflammation – she reckoned she must have bounced a few times before finally sliding to a stop. The glass beaded fastener that had held her airy green capelet over her shoulders had shattered, exposing the bare ribbons that Rydia had to re-tie in a clumsy knot.

Rydia reached up, letting out a small sigh of relief when her fingers brushed over the undamaged hairpin still sitting in her hair, although now it was tangled interminably in her wavy, waist-length locks. Shocked that no one had come running to see the ruckus she must have caused, she muttered under her breath. " _What_ just happened!?"

The village streets were utterly still – she couldn't even hear the chatter of any of the townsmonsters as she tried to collect herself. Taking a lap around the village square, she was dismayed to find that no one was around, and wondered if Asura's decree had somehow managed to reach everyone already, forcing them to go into hiding until she went away. Just when she was about to give up on her search, she spotted a dark gray-hooded figure standing in front of the sundries shop. Wondering if they would lend her some gil to buy a potion to help heal her injuries before meeting back up with Luca, Rydia tapped the monster's shoulder.

"Excuse me…could I borrow some money? I'm really sorry, but…it's kind of an emergency."

However, there was no reply – not even a flinch on the monster's part from the uninitiated contact. Rydia blinked and tapped again, noticing this time how hard their shoulder was underneath her fingertips. It wasn't the feeling of someone that was particularly built from working out (not that Rydia had done much muscle caressing in her life) – it was stiff, and cold...like a corpse. Rydia cleared her throat, making one last attempt to make her presence known. "Are you all right?"

She slid in front of the monster, and had to keep herself from screaming aloud.

The hooded figure was the librarian helping the chocobo that Rydia had seen earlier – and his glowing yellow eyes were now two dull granite stones, frozen in place. Reaching up, Rydia tried to pull his hood back, but it was unmoving – fused to his head within, which was a mass of black, unmoving shadow.

"Oh, no... You've been completely petrified!" Rydia whispered, running her hands down his chest and shaking her head. There was no heartbeat, no movement of breath…absolutely no sign of life. "Who...who would do something like this?"

She glanced over at the entrance to the sundries shop. _If they had a Golden Needle…_

She ran inside, nearly tripping over her own feet when she saw that the eidolon behind the counter was in the same state as the librarian outside. It was a Bomb – but instead of the usual bright red or blue hue the bomb inhabitants of the Feymarch usually were, this one was a pale, lifeless gray – and he was staring through Rydia like she wasn't even there.

Rydia stifled a sob and went to the shelf of medicines, digging around in the dusty bottles and boxes until she found a Golden Needle. Pulling the cap off of the needle tip, she leaned over the counter, biting down on her lip as she clutched it in her fist, preparing to stab it into the Bomb's arm. The golden liquid within the vial sloshed around with the trembling of her hand.

"Forgive me…" Rydia grimaced, and looked away as she brought the needle down. But instead of the needle plunging within the petrified flesh, she heard a "plink", and the needle broke off the syringe, clattering to the floor. When she looked back to her hand, she saw that the golden liquid in the syringe was steadily dripping out over the Bomb's flesh from the opening where the needle had been, but there was no change in his condition. In a standard state of petrification, the victim's bloodstream was still active, and would carry the concentrated levels of medicine throughout the body to quickly heal someone's entire form. But Rydia realized she was dealing with an entirely different illness…the Bomb's flesh was so hard that it wouldn't even accept the needle, which surely meant there was no circulation beneath as well.

Rydia dropped the rest of the syringe on the floor, letting it shatter behind the counter as she backed away. She knew no magic that could possibly cure anything like this…and the most powerful white mage she knew in all of the Feymarch was Queen Asura herself.

"The Queen will help you," Rydia said softly, although she wasn't sure if the Bomb could hear her. "Please…just hold on a little longer."

Rydia turned and fled from the sundries shop, racing deeper into the town square's lower layers to make her way back to the library. Although she wasn't surprised, she was still sickened to see that other groups of eidolons she came across were in the same state as the ones she had found above; some were in the middle of talking to each other, their mouths half-open and their hands raised mid-conversation. As Rydia ran, she swore she could feel their eyes following her…

Inside the library was the same heartbreaking scenery – the monster who had taken over for the cloaked librarian, a Cockatrice with a pair of spectacles sitting on his beak, was frozen mid-air high above the checkout counter, reaching for a book. The chocobo that Rydia had watched eagerly collect his books was preparing to sit down at a study table, his wing extended toward the chair he had been pushing out. Although the library had normally been a quiet place – probably the quietest building in all the Feymarch – Rydia had never realized just how much activity and bustle there had still been even when there were no voices. The sounds of chairs scraping across tiled floor, pencils scratching in notebooks, and the gentle sigh of pages as they turned had completely evaporated, leaving nothing but the sound of Rydia's labored breath rushing through the room like a hurricane.

Rydia pounded down the stairs, crying out for Asura and Leviathan before she even crossed the threshold. She thought perhaps if they could hear the urgency in her voice before seeing her, that they wouldn't immediately banish her with their magic once again.

"Your highnesses…I'm sorry to disobey you, but…the townspeople…!"

Rydia's voice died in her throat as she entered the throne room. Her eyes burning with tears, she stumbled forward, shaking her head as she pressed her fingers to her lips.

She had been foolish to harbor such absurd hope…Leviathan and Asura were as dull and spiritless as all the rest…

Leviathan's mouth was open, and he had his arm held out and his right foot stepping forward, as if to shield Asura. Asura had her scimitar raised high in the air, her lips contorted into a battle cry. Rydia circled them slowly, checking their statue-like bodies for any signs of exterior harm – wounds, burns or frostbite from magic – but there was nothing that indicated any kind of battle had actually taken place.

Rydia pressed her lips together in a straight line, shaking her head. Whoever…or whatever had done this…had managed to do it in only seconds. They hadn't needed to weaken the King and Queen…their magic had been enough on its own to take them out instantaneously.

 _"Rydia...why did you return?"_

Rydia gasped and whirled around, swearing she heard a voice come from Leviathan. He was still staring straight ahead, and hadn't moved even a fraction of an inch.

 _"I'm sorry, Rydia...You should be in the land of the humans, not here..."_

"Queen Asura…!?" Rydia whimpered, whirling back around to face the queen. Same as Leviathan, she was as still as the statue she now resembled.

Rydia let the sobs emerge from where she had been trying to contain them deep within her burning lungs, not caring who could hear her thirty-three year-old self wailing like a child – there was no one left alive in the entirety of the Feymarch to think any less of her weak human emotions…not anymore.

"Your Majesty...Your Highness...This is all _my_ fault! I came back here despite your warnings, and now look at what I've caused!"

Rydia recalled the last time she had been overwhelmed with such hopeless agony – it was the morning that Mist had burned to the ground. She had been sitting outside by the pond with her mother, learning about one of her most favorite summons – the monstrous gigas, Titan. In the middle of a really exciting story about how her mother had entered into a covenant with Titan in order to call upon him, her mother had turned deathly pale – as white as the mists in the cave beyond the village gates. She wordlessly slumped to the ground, nearly falling face-first into the pond had Rydia not miraculously summoned the strength to catch her falling form and pull her into her lap. As Rydia shook her mother and screamed her name over and over, she felt two cold shadows wash over her. Looking up, she saw two figures – a menacing demon in armor as black as the night and a taller, elegant man with a ski-slope nose and pale pink, downturned lips peeking from beneath a dragon's head helmet. Pausing at the village gates, the demon reached into his armor, pulling out something small that glinted in the morning sun and made Rydia squint her eyes. Moments later, the village burst into flames around her, and she could feel the smoke rapidly extinguishing any breath she had left in her lungs as the voices of her fellow villagers rang out in a torturous chorus. She decided right in that moment that she was fated to die with her mommy, but that she was going to take the two invaders with her as well. She watched with narrowed eyes as they slowly approached her…the demon lifted the visor from his helmet and revealed two crystal-blue eyes, stained with anguish…

Rydia pressed her palm against her forehead and was surprised to feel it slick with sweat. For a moment, she felt like she had been in the middle of those flames once again, the acrid stench of burning flesh and wildlife wrapping around her as she clutched her mother's already stiffening corpse. She shook her head, backing away from Leviathan and Asura's silent forms.

 _No more... I don't want to lose anyone else anymore...Never again!_

"I will find a way to save you," Rydia sniffled. "I swear to it. Even if it means I can never come to the Feymarch again…"

* * *

As she trudged through the winding tunnels of the Feymarch cavern that would eventually deposit her back on the surface of the underworld, Rydia was first shocked to see that all of the lava that had previously boiled so close to the surface of the cavern floors had completely dried away, petrified in a sea of murky gray and white bone matter and calcium deposits. Under normal circumstances, one would need at minimum a Float spell to pass through safely, or in Rydia's case, a ride on the back of a fire-loving Eidolon like Ifrit.

 _Was Asura or Leviathan controlling this lava the entire time…?_ Rydia wondered. _What will protect the Feymarch from invaders if this first line of defense is gone…?_

Her second shock came when a gang of Domovoi, underworld cousins of the surface world's Goblin, crawled out of a deep crack in one of the cavern's walls and started to approach Rydia with their collection of stolen weapons – maces, broken knives and worn axes favored by the dwarven folk –feeling braver now that the lava that normally kept them at bay had conveniently disappeared. Rydia had used to hunt monsters in the caverns when she lived in the Feymarch, but when she had an eidolon at her side, the creepiest of the cavern's inhabitants tended to leave her alone.

 _I need to tell everyone about this as quickly as I can!_ Rydia thought, reaching to her hip and snagging the handle of her whip that hung off her belt. _I don't have time for pithy distractions like you!_

Swinging her whip in the air and snapping it across the floor of the cavern with a violent crack, Rydia drove the gang of Domovoi back, and raised her left hand in front of her, closing her eyes.

"Ifrit!" Rydia cried. "Burn this scourge so I can continue forward!"

But whereas she would normally expect to hear the roar of flames surround her and watch Ifrit emerge from a fiery womb before her eyes, there was now only silence. Even the Domovoi gave each other confused looks, one of them scratching his head with his knife point and accidentally impaling himself.

Rydia bit down on her lip. So…it hadn't just been the regular citizens of the Feymarch that were affected by the mass petrification…

"Ifrit…he won't even answer me," Rydia whimpered, feeling her heart start to pound harder and harder with growing despair. "Does that mean Bahamut…and the rest…?"

In a fit of rage, Rydia blew the Domovoi away with a Firaga spell, which was overkill for small fry like them – but she was so distraught that she just wanted every obstacle that dared cross her path to be gone, and quickly at that. With each new encounter, Rydia desperately tried another summon – Ramuh, Shiva, even the All-Father himself, Bahamut – and none would heed her call. After each failure, she would cast Thundaga, Blizzaga or Flare instead, wiping the monsters that dared to challenge her off the face of the planet.

"Hang on, my dear eidolons…I will save every last one of you!" Rydia sobbed through blinding tears as she cast yet another spell to clear her path, her voice's pathetic echo parroting back at her throughout the twisting tunnels of the cavern.

When she finally breached the surface of the underworld, Rydia was about to pass out from the massive drain on her mana she had foolishly brought upon herself. With no healing items on her person – she hadn't expected to be fighting for her life in the caverns alone, after all – and not even enough power to cast Osmose to try to drain an unsuspecting monster of their mana to absorb into herself, Rydia collapsed in front of the mouth of the cavern, gasping for breath as she tried to spot the Falcon and wave Luca down.

But Luca and the Falcon, both of which were awfully hard to miss on the tiny island the entrance to the Feymarch sat upon – were nowhere to be seen.

"Wha…?" Rydia moaned, pushing her fingers through her hair to force it back from her face. It didn't help much – she was starting to see double from not being able to focus her dilated eyes. "Where did they go…?" As she struggled to rise back to her feet and stagger forward, she heard a loud screech ring out from above her, and whirled around just in time to be dive-bombed by a massive Zuu. The black and purple-flecked bird, which could best be described as a raven on steroids left to bake for one-hundred years on the hardiest, most unforgiving mountain peaks, swung a razor-sharp talon toward the hapless summoner. Rydia felt the sting of the laceration ripping open across her chest before she could even attempt to raise her arms in defense. Stumbling back and falling on her rear, Rydia brushed her hand over her newly-acquired wound, marveling at the amount of fiery-red blood that was dripping from her fingers as she lifted her hand to see.

 _The color of flames…_ Rydia thought to herself as her eyes involuntarily slammed shut. Sinking down to the ground, she felt the heat of the underworld start to give way to a pacifying, cooling breeze, like the way her mother's Mist Dragon used to nuzzle her maw against Rydia's hand and snort into it, blowing out diamond-dust particles of ice and rain that made Rydia's fingertips sparkle like they were dipped in shattered crystals.

 _Mom…I can't do anything…it would seem without my eidolons, I'm no good to anyone…_

"BOOM!"

"Caaaw….!"

Rydia felt the ground underneath her body shudder, forcing her head to loll sideways. As she slowly opened her eyes, she could feel a hot gust of wind blow over her and make out the shadow of something massive landing a few yards away. It was a cherry-stained airship with a gargantuan silver drill attached at the helm, and the pilot was barreling down the unfurling ramp of the ship before it had even completely touched down.

"Luca…!" Rydia gasped, pushing herself up a bit more by her forearms and wondering if the unsuspecting dwarven princess could see the impending danger of the Zuu. But when Rydia turned her head back toward the cavern, she saw that all that was left of the monster was a smoking carcass that was burning away into dust, scores of loose black feathers blanketing the ground around her.

Luca skidded toward Rydia, sliding down to her knees and reaching into the blue rucksack hanging just below her ample chest, fishing out a collection of glass bottles. Before Rydia could reach for them, Luca popped the cork off of one and started pouring the contents down Rydia's throat, making her gag and protest as the medicine flooded her mouth.

"Ack!" Rydia coughed, and Luca tossed aside the empty bottle, reaching for another. Rydia managed to snatch it from her hand, shaking her head as she tried to catch her breath.

"Thanks…but I'm good now!" Rydia gasped. "I'll take it from here!" She could already feel her wound closing up and healing, much to her relief.

"I was thinking you looked like you could use a favor," Luca smirked, sitting back on her haunches. Rydia swiped at her mouth, wiping away the remains of the Potion she had been force-fed before popping the cork of the Ether she had grabbed from Luca.

"Where did you come from!?" Rydia asked between sips, never much caring for the sour, bitter aftertaste Ethers always left on her tongue. "I thought you were going to wait for me!"

Luca reached up to adjust her visor, tapping her finger against her full, apple-shaped cheek that popped rosily when she grinned, which was almost always her constant state of being. "I was so bored that I went to make a few engine improvements. I'm just testing them out now – one of them was that sweet homing missile that burned that Zuu to a crisp! Master Cid's going to give me a full engineer's license once he sets his eyes on that!"

"I wasn't gone _that_ long…" Rydia pouted, looking Luca over. Her bubblegum pink shop romper was covered in oil and grease stains, where it had been perfectly clean when she had picked Rydia up from Mist earlier that morning. Her pale leather gloves were smudged with gods-knew-what, and her bright red goggles, which she bought to match Cid's, were hanging around her neck. Shaking her head, she stood up, brushing the dust and ashes off the remainder of her clothes that hadn't been torn. Now that she was functioning again, the terrible scene she had stumbled across in the Feymarch came screeching back to the forefront of her mind. And there was something about the hallucination she had had about the Mist Dragon before nearly passing out reminded her of another potentially troubling scenario she wanted to get a grasp on, quickly. Looking down at her hands, Rydia bit her lip. "Anyway, that's great about the missile, Luca…but what about the Crystal in the Dwarven Castle? Was it safe when you went back to the castle shipyard?"

Luca's almond-colored lips twisted in confusion, and her gold-flecked eyes flashed. "The Crystal? What's that about all of a sudden?"

"We have trouble, Luca…" Rydia sniffled, and began explaining the whole sordid tale starting from when she had entered the Feymarch throne room, but leaving out the fight with Queen Asura. She hadn't actually told anyone about her previous banishment from the Feymarch – it would have made for some awkward questioning if she had ever wanted to go again, like today.

When Rydia was finished, Luca tapped her foot and kept fussing with her visor, which either meant she was nervous, thinking, or both. Rydia waited anxiously for Luca to say something – _anything_ – and finally, the dwarven princess let out a deep sigh.

"…I knew something was up."

"Oh?" Rydia blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" Luca shrugged, "…I said that I was out on a test flight…but that's not the only reason why I was gone. Something's definitely up – you can tell from how the number of monsters suddenly multiplied out of nowhere. So I thought it'd be a good idea for me to take the Falcon out on a patrol while you were visiting."

Rydia raised her eyebrows. "The monsters down here have multiplied? I'm impressed your father allowed you to do that, that being the case."

"He doesn't really know about it, ha ha! Getting him to let me be an engineer's apprentice was painful enough."

"That sounds much more like the King Giott I know, I'll say that much…but I'm glad you're safe."

"The same goes for you," Luca nodded. Suddenly, a loud explosion bellowed in the distance, causing both women to nearly jump out of their boots. Without hesitation, they barreled up the ramp of the Falcon to get a better look at what could have happened. Dashing to the helm of the ship, Rydia could see an airship approaching King Giott's castle to the east – and it looked nearly identical to the one they were on now, with the exception of the missing drill. Another explosion rang out, and this time, Rydia could see what had made the terrible sound – it was a barrage of cannon fire letting loose on the castle, sending plumes of smoke and fire bursting into the skies above.

"Oh no…!" Luca whispered, her eyes widening. It was all she could bring herself to utter as her homeland was laid to siege before her very eyes. For the first time ever, Rydia witnessed Luca stunned into silence.

Rydia gasped, pressing her hands to her chest. "Was that…the Red Wings?! That ship…"

Without answering, Luca ran to the steering wheel of the Falcon, firing up the engines in record speed and releasing all of the airship's brakes with a flurry of grinding gears. As Rydia stared stupefied toward the castle, she watched the mysterious airship make one last pass with cannons and then fly away as quickly as it had appeared. She thought she heard Luca shout something, but her mind had filled with an incessant buzzing, assailed with random images running so quickly together that Rydia could feel her eyes rolling in the back of her head trying to keep up with them all. The twin moon, the petrified eidolons, a gathering mist, her mother's grave…

…and finally, the image of a young woman who could have been mistaken for the Rydia of fifteen years ago, her eyes filled with cold malice as Bahamut appeared by her side to battle against the real Rydia and her friends in the Tower of Babil. The doppelganger had managed to call upon Bahamut with an imposter's hands, an imposter's breath, an imposter's guise…

"Rydia!" Luca shouted, and Rydia snapped out of her trance, blinking.

"I said, hold on!"

"…Right!" Rydia nodded, grasping onto the railing next to her. Luca whirled around, guiding the hovering ship through the motions of lift-off. Rydia turned again toward the smoking castle that had become their impromptu destination, and bit down on her lip so hard that she could taste blood.

 _Cecil…if those were the Red Wings…then what has become of you?_


	7. Act Seven: Luca's Tale

Act Seven: Luca's Tale | The Clockwork Heart

"Princess Luca! You're all right!"

"And Miss Rydia is with her, too!"

Luca marched into the castle amid a frenzy of cheers and sighs of relief from the dwarven guards who were gathered in the keep, assessing the damage from the airstrike. Although the bombing had looked terrible from where Rydia and Luca had been holed up on the Falcon, the reality was that King Giott's castle was one of the strongest structures on the planet – constructed from iron mined from the darkest, deepest depths of the Underworld, one could rationalize that his castle had been forged in the fires of Hell itself. There had been some smoking piles of rubble the girls had needed to weave around as they made their way inside, and many decorative items like vases and mounted weaponry had been destroyed when they crashed into the stone floor, but overall, the castle looked no worse for wear than it had seventeen years ago, before King Giott had finally given in to the demands of his people to put some effort into restoring their dwarven capital to its former glory. When Luca's mother had been alive, she normally tended to such affairs while Giott was off building his army and uniting the whole of the Underworld. After she had passed away unexpectedly while giving birth to Luca, King Giott had poured all of his attentions into his only daughter and ruling the kingdom alone, and thus anything that was not deemed an emergency from a maintenance perspective was left unattended. His people had never gone without and were well-taken care of, but even the most un-materialistic of dwarves had their limit as to how shabby they would let the exterior of the castle become.

"Were there any casualties?" Luca demanded, and the guards shook their heads.

"Lali-ho! None reported, ma'am. A few dwarves got hurt from the surprise attacks by the monsters, but they're already resting safely in the hospital wing. They'll be up and raring to go again in no time!"

"What monsters?" Rydia blinked, and one of the guards looked up at her.

"That girl who attacked us was something fierce – she had some kind of weird, exotic power, where she could make monsters appear out of thin air. All types, and many we've never seen before!"

"We were powerless against her," another guard added sadly. "It was best for us to stand our ground and finish off what she threw at us. We knew the monsters were meant to be a distraction, but there was nothing else we could do – they would have gone too deeply into the castle and hurt civilians had we not stopped them!"

"A girl…?" Rydia trailed off. She hadn't thought any women were in the Red Wings. Perhaps it wasn't Baron's air force after all – that would have let her breathe a lot easier. Ever since she had seen the flash of the crimson ship in the cannon fire, her heart had felt like it was caught in her throat.

"What kind of person can make monsters appear out of thin air?" Luca huffed. "You're sure you weren't seeing things?"

 _A summoner could do that,_ Rydia thought to herself. _But…there are no other summoners in the world that wield even a fraction of the power needed for an attack like this…_

"Positive, Your Highness," a guard nodded. "Any dwarf that was fighting will agree!"

Rydia and Luca looked at each other, and Luca shrugged.

"I need to see my father – is he in the throne room?"

"Yes, Your Highness…he confronted the girl, but escaped unscathed."

"Father…" Luca shook her head and took off for the throne room. Rydia ran after her, calling her friend's name and shooting the dwarves a grateful look for the intel as she struggled to keep up. Even though Luca's medicine had helped her recover some strength, she still felt exhausted from her ordeal in the Feymarch. What she had seen and experienced couldn't have been cured by even the most skilled white mage in the world.

Luca exploded into the throne room, making the two guards that were flanking her father's throne nearly fall over in fright, thinking another surprise attack was occurring. "Father! Are you all right?"

King Giott leapt from his throne, rushing to Luca and scooping her up into his arms, which was no easy feat with Luca already eclipsing him in both height and muscle mass.

"My stars! That's what I want to ask you, Luca! Blundering around on that airship of yours...but never fear! My fortress was built to stand strong against bombing assaults as _feeble_ as that one."

Luca let the cutting remark about the Falcon slide for now, hugging her father tightly and closing her eyes.

Rydia sheepishly stepped through the open door to the throne room, and gave a quick curtsey as to not interrupt the tender reunion unfolding before her. "It is good to see you again, King Giott."

King Giott peered over Luca's shoulder, patting her back assuredly before pulling away. "Ah! Welcome, Rydia! It's been ages, it has!"

Luca knew what Rydia was going to ask next, so she decided to cut to the chase. After all, why else would their castle have been attacked? "The crystal, Father! Is it safe?"

Giott frowned and looked away. "We weren't able to protect it...Unfortunately, it was taken, and by just one young woman, no less. She looked me dead in the eyes as she broke into the crystal chamber, as if I were no more a threat to her than the dirt under her feet."

Rydia let out a strangled cry. "What!?"

 _My fears for the safety of the crystals…they weren't unfounded…AND we were too late…_

Luca heaved a sigh. She had to keep reminding herself that not all was lost – everyone in the castle had survived, after all, and that was all that really mattered. As troublesome as it was, the crystal could be retrieved – Cecil and Rydia had done so once before, after all. "The guards told me about her…is it true she had an army of monsters?"

King Giott nodded. "She was no ordinary girl. In fact, she wielded the exact same powers as yours, Rydia!"

Rydia swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "That's _impossible_."

Luca turned to face Rydia, shaking her head. "The same power as Rydia? You mean... she can control eidolons!? Is that what the guards meant when they said monsters came out of thin air?"

King Giott lifted his Viking helmet away from his head, running his sleeve over his sweat-ridden brow. "That's correct. She used that power to shrug off my most battle-hardened dwarven guards and snatch away the crystal with ease. And I'm sorry to say that the ship she rode in on was very familiar – it was definitely one of Baron's."

"How could something like this happen?" Rydia whispered, staring at the floor. The overwhelming dread that had nearly crippled her in the Feymarch was slowly seeping back into her shaking limbs. _Leviathan and Asura…and now this…there must be a connection between the fallen eidolons and the stolen crystals._

Luca put her hands on her hips, spitting a barrage of questions as her cheeks flushed crimson. "But why are the Red Wings involved in this!? Where is Cid!? You are sure you didn't see anyone else but the girl, Father? Cid would NEVER allow his ships to be used in an act of treason such as this!"

King Giott patted Luca's shoulder. "Do not misunderstand me – I am not laying blame with Baron yet. You hardly need to worry about that man, Luca. He is as stout and hardy as any dwarf I have met – I know he would not allow this to come to pass willingly."

Rydia looked up at King Giott and Luca, a flush of frustration crawling up her cheeks. "Something's happened to Cecil...and to Baron. I'm sure of it! There's no other explanation for why they'd bomb this castle without reason. I must get to Baron as soon as possible...Cecil, Rosa, Ceodore and Cid…they could all be in terrible danger!"

King Giott sighed, plopping his massive helmet back onto his head. Instead of adding height and majesty as it normally did, it just made the defeated king look more shrunken and child-like. "The wars of the past are about to spring forth anew. That much, I fear, is certain. Shortly before you two arrived, my men confirmed for me that the enemy's forces already have three of the Dark Crystals in their hands!"

Rydia clenched her fist. "So where's the last crystal…?"

Luca turned to Rydia and reached into her jumpsuit, pulling out a familiar strand of pearls. "The Sealed Cave!" She clutched the necklace in her fingers, and looked to Giott. "Father! I'm heading over there to make sure the crystal is safe!"

Both King Giott and Rydia widened their eyes in horror. Giott shook his head dismissively, holding out his palm. "Luca! You have already put yourself through enough danger! If you go there..."

Luca smiled slyly. "Oh, Father, I'll be fine! I'm not going alone, anyway."

Rydia frowned. "Huh?" Who else did Luca know that would possibly be willing to brave that cavern of horrors? Was she going to recruit some body guards?

Luca laughed and shook her head, trying to blink away the tears that had started to creep into the corners of her eyes as she gazed back down at the necklace in her hands. "Besides, the only way to get in is with this necklace I have, right? I want to be the one who uses it this time. It's all I have left from Mother!"

Rydia stared down at her feet. _I can't possibly let her go alone…the Sealed Cave is far too dangerous, even with Luca being as brave and strong as she is. If we locate the final crystal of darkness, we may also locate the person who petrified the eidolons – what if they hurt Luca too?_

Rydia pressed her lips together; taking hold of Luca's gloved hand and squeezing gently. "Luca...in that case…I'll accompany you. I can help you disable the traps of the cave and navigate. It's a daunting place…but nothing we can't overcome together."

"And after we've secured the crystal, I'll take you to Baron!" Luca grinned, and the girls shook on it.

King Giott groaned and shook his head. "I never thought I had raised such a stubborn child..."

Luca puffed out her chest and flashed a victory sign. "Like father, like daughter, you know."

King Giott narrowed his eyes. "Just remember to be careful. The Tower of Babil has begun to glow ominously once more...I fear this is only the beginning of more to come. My only condition for allowing you to go is that you spend the night here and make your way in the morning. Neither of you are in any condition to take on the cavern right now. I don't know what happened when you two went to the Feymarch, but…Rydia looks like she's about to fall over."

Rydia flushed and looked away. So, her feebleness was _that_ transparent – but she was grateful for the moment of respite resting at the castle would give her. It had been a whirlwind of a day – and she needed to do some serious thinking if she was going to psych herself up for their trip to the Sealed Cave.

"And Rydia, when you go tomorrow, make sure my daughter doesn't get into trouble."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Luca was so excited that Giott had hardly put up a fight, she didn't even bother arguing with her father about the tiny condition he had laid upon them. "And I'll be here to help you out, Rydia!"

Giott collapsed upon his throne, his eyes rolling up toward the ceiling. "My dear ladies, please do not overextend yourselves. We've enjoyed peace for many years. But now, I'm afraid, the time has come to reinforce our defenses. I believe that the two of you will do what's right, whatever may come to pass…"

Rydia looked away. She didn't like the underlying tone of that statement. Did he mean if Baron _had_ betrayed them, that they would need to cut their ties? Rydia with her friends, and Luca with her master…?

"Rydia!" Luca slung her arm over Rydia's shoulder, pulling her tightly against her side as she started to lead them out of the throne room. "I'm going out to the shipyard to work on some stuff before we go tomorrow. You know the way to my bedroom, right? I still have a bed in there you can use. You should go to the hot springs in the infirmary, as well…that'll fix you right up better than any medicine! Oh, and if you're hungry, put in an order at the pub – they'll deliver whatever you want to my room!"

Rydia nodded, trying to force a smile. Had this been a visit under any other circumstances, she would have been looking forward to the royal sleepover, just like the two of them used to do when Rydia still lived in the Feymarch. Even though Rydia's biological age was thirty-three, she would have been much closer to Luca's age had she never been swallowed by Leviathan. She liked to fantasize that even if they hadn't met under the arduous circumstances of war, they still would have become dear friends in another life.

 _But I probably would have never met Cecil, Rosa, Kain or Edge,_ Rydia mused. _I wonder just how different all of our lives would have been had Golbez not become Zemus' puppet…he probably wouldn't have targeted Baron…Cecil and Kain would have never had need to come to Mist…_

"I think I will go to the hot springs," Rydia relented. Her mind was going down a dark path she wanted to steer far away from. "See you later tonight?"

"For sure," Luca nodded, squeezing Rydia's shoulder before pulling away. "Don't wait up for me though…if you're tired, just go to sleep. We're going to have a big day tomorrow."

"Oh, wait…!" Rydia called to Luca's retreating backside. Luca glanced over her shoulder. "You told Giott before that you weren't going to the Sealed Cave alone…what did you mean by that?"

"Oh, that's what I'm working on now!" Luca grinned. "All will be revealed tomorrow. Never fear!" Before Rydia could ask any more questions, Luca skipped away, disappearing in a swell of dwarves that had started to gather in the antechamber that was the crossroads to other parts of the castle. Despite the castle being assaulted and having their crystal stolen, the early evening meant it was supper time, and dwarves were not wont to let trivial matters such as war get in the way of their next meal.

Rydia drifted downstairs toward the infirmary; registering the occasional greetings she would get from the dwarves that knew her from when she hung out with Luca, but only managing to raise her hand in reply. With each step she took, she realized that she really was exhausted, both mentally and physically – she wondered if one of the nurses would drag her body out if she ended up falling asleep in the hot springs.

Once she arrived, Rydia stripped out of her clothes, gathered her copious amount of hair into a sloppy top-knot secured by her hairpin, and sank into the salty, bubbling water, cringing at first from the stinging sensation that rushed all over her slightly healed-over, but still exposed cuts. But after the first minute of pain came the wave of warm, melty relaxation that Rydia was looking for, and she let out a small sigh as she sank further down, the water brushing over her chin.

Across the way from her, there were two dwarven women chatting about their day – it sounded like both of them were nurses whose shifts had ended right before the Red Wings' assault. For a few moments, Rydia let herself drift away from consciousness entirely; mentally drawing shut a pair of blackout curtains over her brain. But after what felt like only a few minutes, she heard someone's voice calling out to her, and her eyes snapped open. The two women who had been talking were staring at her, smiling.

"Hey!" one of them exclaimed. "You used to come around with King Cecil and Queen Rosa to visit that crazy old man who was hospitalized here, right? During the war?"

Rydia blinked, still groggy enough that she didn't understand what they were talking about. Finally, it hit her. _Oh, of course…the crazy old man they are talking about has to be Cid…after he had hurt himself trying to bomb an enemy ship, he was laid up here for quite a while._

"Yes!" Rydia smiled kindly, surprised that they even remembered her. "Cid is doing well…were you his nurses?"

"We were," the other woman smiled. "He was the worst patient we ever had."

"So impatient and loud…"

"He complained about all the food…"

"…And got angry when we wouldn't let him walk to the bathroom unsupervised…but it was because he would make a run for the shipyard and try to work!"

Rydia giggled. "That sounds like Cid, all right. I'm sorry to tell you he is still like that. He has a grandchild now and is still as much of a workaholic as ever. He's taken Princess Luca on as an apprentice, too."

"We heard such rumors," one of the nurses shook her head. "No one can deny Luca's talent with machinery…the king is dismayed, but what can he do about it? Our Luca is the future, and whether he likes it or not, she's going to radically transform this kingdom with her own hands."

"Didn't there used to be a handsome ninja that would accompany you?" the other nurse asked, and the other one burst out laughing. Rydia felt her cheeks flush far deeper than was justifiable by just the heat of the water.

"Edge…er, King Edge?"

"Yes, that was him," the other nurse nodded. "Oh, how Cid would rant and rave about him…calling him a spoiled upstart, going on about how he was going to get ya'all killed, and other things that make me cringe just thinking about them. Unrepeatable things, mind you. Do you see much of him anymore? We don't get a lot of news about Eblan down here in the underworld, even though we're technically connected together by the Tower of Babil."

"I…" Rydia trailed off for a moment, feeling the words get caught in her throat like sticky nectar. "I mean…I don't see him so much anymore. I guess it's been a long time. But…I think he's doing well. Edge is…Edge."

And that was the truth…but she found it difficult to admit out loud, even to two relative strangers.

"Still no Queen for Eblan, then?" the first nurse giggled. "Maybe I still have a chance? Do you think he likes women with beards?"

Rydia forced herself to laugh along with them, even though it felt and sounded like she was gasping for air. "Honestly…I've never seen him meet a woman he didn't like. I think you need to make a visit to the surface."

"Ha! Thank you for entertaining an old woman, dear," the nurse smiled. "Enjoy your stay at the castle."

"Thank you," Rydia said softly. She closed her eyes again, pressing her palm over her chest as she sank yet deeper into the water, letting the salty water burn her chapped lips.

A tight, twisted feeling had settled in her chest – and it was all-too familiar, although she hadn't felt it for a long, long while.

* * *

It had been late in the evening when Rydia heard Luca finally sneak into her bedroom. Even though Luca had been making an effort to be as quiet as possible (for her), Rydia would have still woken up if a pin had dropped. Rydia quietly watched Luca sit on her bed and pull off her boots, then proceeding to strip off her jacket and romper and pull on her nightshirt.

"Luca?" Rydia asked softly, and Luca blinked as she pulled the nightshirt over her head, the curls in her bob springing back up through the neck hole.

"Oh, hey…sorry if I woke you."

"No, I was up…" Rydia sat up in bed as if to illustrate her point. "Did you finish your project?"

"Oh yeah…" Luca grinned. "Can't wait to show you. It's going to be a blast from the past!"

Rydia shook her head. "I don't even know what to think about that." _It feels like the past has been haunting me more in the past twenty-four hours than it has in the last seventeen years._

"Good, I want you to be in suspense!" Luca smirked. "All ready for tomorrow?"

"As ready as I'll be, I suppose. Did you learn anything else about the attack today while you were in the shipyard?"

"A little," Luca nodded, sliding under the covers. "I got a decent description of the girl."

"You did!?" Rydia blinked. "You think we could recognize her if we ran into her?"

"I have little doubt…" Luca trailed off. "…It sounds like she looks a lot like you."

Rydia clutched her blanket, feeling as if ice water had just been poured down her back.

"What…?"

"Um…" Luca shook her head. "Listen, most dwarves don't spend a lot of time with humans, so they think ya'all look alike. So we have to take this description with a grain of salt. I was told she had wavy teal hair that was shoulder-length, and wore ruby jewelry. She's pale, but in an ethereal, beautiful way – they said she glowed. They described how she summoned the monsters, and…well, I mean, it sounds like how anyone would summon a monster, I suppose."

Rydia knew that when Luca said "anyone", she meant "Rydia". Rydia was the only summoner she had ever known, after all.

"I see…" Rydia looked down at the sheets pooled in her lap. "Did their description…remind you of anything in particular?"

"I'm not sure I'm following," Luca frowned.

Rydia closed her eyes, thinking back to the barrage of visions she had experienced on the Falcon as she watched the dwarven castle get assaulted by the Red Wings. "Like…the impostor from fifteen years ago, that Cecil and the others found in the Sealed Cave?"

Luca drew in a sharp breath, and Rydia could hear the springs in her bed shifting.

"I mean…I remember her a little, but…it's foggy…I was so young," Luca said softly, having turned to face Rydia. "But what I seem to remember from back then is that she looked _exactly_ like you. Cecil, Cid, myself…everyone was tricked. The dwarves didn't say this new girl looked and acted exactly like you…just similar."

 _Everyone had fallen for it except Edge_ , Rydia mentally corrected Luca, biting down on her lip. _And why does that even matter anymore?_ Rydia pressed the tips of her fingers together. "We never found out what she actually looked like – I'm just wondering if there is some kind of connection. She was able to summon monsters too…but the Feymarch was totally normal that day – no one had been petrified."

"Rydia…" Luca shook her head. "You've really been in your head since I picked you up from Mist. Is there something else on your mind? I know a lot of terrible things happened today, but…the Rydia I know is resilient and determined no matter what chocobo crap gets kicked up in her face. Did anything else happen you want to talk about?"

Rydia quickly shook her head. "No…I've kept us up enough with my chatter. I'll feel better tomorrow – I promise. I think I just need a full night's sleep."

"…OK," Luca conceded, closing her eyes. "Good night, Rydia."

"Good night…"

* * *

The next morning, Rydia decided that she did feel much better – she was surprised at how her outlook had improved overnight. Her sleep had been dreamless, and the hot springs along with a hearty dwarven dinner before bed had made her sleep like a rock after Luca had passed out. It also felt revitalizing to be in a place full of people again – being in King Giott's castle made her feel like she was in the Feymarch, where there was always activity no matter what the hour. In tiny Mist, where you could count the village's maximum population at any given time on all your fingers and toes, sometimes it got a little _too_ quiet. Despite her longing for peace, falling asleep alone in dead quiet was unnerving for her. It was one of the reasons why she had asked if she could become housemates with someone when she moved back to Mist – so that there could always be some sort of activity around her at any given time.

Luca took Rydia out to where the Falcon was parked, and Rydia noticed that two short people – children, perhaps? – were running around on the deck of the ship. As they got closer, one of the children noticed them and pushed the button that released the ramp, which came barreling down to the ground.

Climbing aboard, Rydia gasped in surprise. The two figures were not children at all – they were remarkably life-like dolls. One was crafted in the image of a little human boy, and the other a little human girl. Both had porcelain-pale white silicone skin, large glass blue eyes, and mops of goldenrod hair. The boy's hair flopped in his eyes in a messy pageboy cut, while the girl's hair was pulled half-way back with a red ribbon and spilled over her shoulders in fat sausage curls.

They were dressed in matching formal clothes – the boy was wearing a puffy white button down shirt with a red silk vest and blue slacks, while the girl wore a layered red and white collared dress with a billowing petticoat. The little girl ran up to Luca and Rydia, giving a crooked bow.

"Oh, hey!" Rydia blinked, bowing back. Her doing so made the girl smile.

Luca giggled. "I told you we weren't alone, didn't I? These are Calca and Brina. They'll be a huge help to us this time, I'm sure of it!"

"This time…?" Rydia pressed her lips together. Luca let out a nervous laugh.

"Oh yeah…I forgot, you weren't around! These used to be my favorite dolls when I was a kid. But one of Golbez's nut-job minions stole them and ended up cursing them to attack Cecil and help steal the crystal in my father's throne room."

Rydia made a face. There was only one of Golbez's henchmen that would have been sick enough to steal a kid's toys in order to turn them into weapons – the same person who had desecrated Edge's parents' bodies and turned them into reanimated monsters. "Sounds like the work of Doctor Lugae."

Luca nodded. "Yeah, that seems about right. Most of my dolls were destroyed in the battle, but…I managed to save these two and restore them. I may not seem like it, but I'm really good at sewing – I made all their clothes and stitched their wigs myself!"

Rydia crossed her arms over her chest. "So in order to bring them to life…more of Cid's work?"

Luca puffed out her chest proudly, her hands on her hips. "I fixed them up, actually. My airship expertise gets me a pretty long way with these things! Their intelligence is limited, and they can't talk, but I managed to program each of them to a fair extent. Calca here is a tank and reinforced with steel underneath that cute face of his – he'll be our bodyguard."

"This sweet little boy?" Rydia giggled, and Calca looked over at her from where he was standing at the steering wheel, and reached to the belt holding up his slacks, pulling out a massive knife that Rydia hadn't noticed was on his person. He waved it to her excitedly as if to show off what a big boy he actually was, and she could feel all the color draining from her cheeks.

Luca laughed when she saw the look on Rydia's face. "He'll be harmless to us, promise. And his sister, Brina, is a healer. I've filled her with the ingredients that are used in various types of magic items – her body breaks them down and will cast a random spell, like synthesized white magic. Pretty cool, right?"

Rydia shook her head in awe. "Luca…it's more than cool! Cid is going to flip when he sees what you've done!"

Luca beamed. "That's right, he will! Now, then! I came up with a plan, and I want to know what you think. First, I think we should go to Kokkol's Forge and get some new weapons."

"OK," Rydia nodded. She supposed if she could no longer summon eidolons, she was going to need something that would help her in a fight other than her old whip. If she was going to rely on her magic and be smarter about it than she was in the Feymarch, she would need a powerful rod to amplify her powers without draining her mana.

"Next, if you wanted…I thought we could quickly stop by the Sylph Cavern…Maybe we could check on them."

Rydia offered a sad smile in reply. The Sylphs, along with the eidolons she had befriended, had not answered her calls either…but it was sweet of Luca to propose seeking them out. Rydia had little hope for what they would find, but realized as soon as Luca had said something that she couldn't forgive herself if she didn't even try to find out what condition the gentle Sylphs were in. They had been so kind to her when they lent her their powers, and to Yang when he had been comatose and under their care – she owed them that much.

Luca counted out a third finger on her hand. "And then finally, the Sealed Cave. We'll be more than ready for it after all of our prep. What do you say?"

"It sounds like you've thought of everything," Rydia said, and Calca and Brina each jumped in the air and did a synchronized twirl. Luca patted Brina on the head, and she looked up at them eagerly.

"With these two, we're going to whip through that cave in no time. Calca, fire up the engines for me and set the navigator for Kokkol's…Off we go!"

* * *

Hours later, the four of them had completed everything on Luca's list. Unfortunately, neither Kokkol's Forge nor the Sylph Cavern had yielded particularly positive news, resetting the tone for the day from cautiously optimistic to heavyhearted.

Upon arriving at the forge, both Luca and Rydia were dismayed to hear from Kokkol's apprentice that the famous blacksmith had passed away only a few weeks ago, although his death had been peaceful.

 _"My master met his eternal reward, proud of the great feat he accomplished forging the holy sword, Excalibur,"_ his apprentice had shared, with a sad smile on his face. _"And I can only hope to carry on the legacy he built…"_

"I'll miss him," Luca sighed as they returned back to the Falcon. "We hadn't really needed any of his services since the war ended, but…he and my father were still good friends – they had grown up together. He'll be heartbroken when the news reaches his ears."

"Cecil too, I'm sure," Rydia frowned. "He still treasures Excalibur to this day – he had told me after Ceodore was born that someday, he would bequeath the holy blade to him."

They did not leave the forge empty-handed; Kokkol's apprentice had done a fine job of outfitting Luca with a drop forged steel tomahawk that was light enough for her to carry one-handed and use as a projectile, giving her far more versatility than she would have had with a two-handed hammer. For Rydia, the apprentice had remembered her from when she had come with Cecil to forge Excalibur, and offered up one of Kokkol's final creations before he had passed – a beautifully sculpted ice rod made of blue gold and topped with a three-pointed azure ice crystal.

At the Sylph Cavern, Rydia had stumbled through the overgrown, lush plant life that made up the cavern's interior as the group's makeshift tour guide, since neither Luca nor the dolls had ever set foot in the forbidden paradise. It was well-known among dwarves that Sylphs, delicate fairies whose strength only became evident when they swarmed their enemies, were at heart peaceful creatures but had no desire to associate with man or dwarf and were extremely shy. As a result, very few dwarves had ever met one in person, and the number of humans that had was even smaller than that. Although they weren't eidolons, the Sylphs had offered to forge a covenant with Rydia when it was discovered that an injured human man they had been caring for – Yang Fang Leiden of Fabul – had once been part of their party in the fight to save the crystals from falling into Golbez's hands.

In the years since Rydia had forged that covenant, the twisted vines of the bluecrown passionflowers that had once shied away from the rivers of green poison that snaked through the rivets of the cavern floor were now blanketing them. As a result, Rydia and the others had been able to pass through safely, without the intervention of magic.

"After all this time, the flowers developed a resistance to the poison…" Rydia trailed off. "And they even appear to be _thriving_ as a result. These flower heads are bigger and brighter than I've ever seen them – they've absorbed the bioluminescence of the poison, too."

Luca crossed her arms over her chest as they walked. "It's a process called natural selection. Over the years, as the flower population was exposed to the poison, the genes of their seedlings were likely altered. I'm sure the insects that live in here are immune to the poison as well – they would have pollinated the flowers, and when new ones were born, they were stronger than their predecessors because their genes were mutated. Now, the poison can't kill them anymore – they've adapted to their environment." She pointed up toward the ceiling of the cavern, where Rydia had remembered there were once canopies of flowers – now there were mostly dead and dry vines, and clusters of cave bats. "And the ones up there that didn't…eventually perished. Soon, they'll replaced by their progeny."

"Like humans, I suppose," Rydia pressed her lips together.

"And dwarves," Luca added. "There is no species on our planet that can escape from evolution. There are some scientists that say the planet itself is evolving."

Rydia shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn't know why, but the very thought of that gave her anxiety – how had the twin moon evolved that was hanging from the sky now? It didn't just suddenly materialize – right?

When they had reached the majestic, but long-neglected cabin buried in the depths of the cavern that the Sylphs took residence in, Rydia did not bother knocking on the door that was hanging half off the hinges. Steeling herself by taking a deep, shaking breath, she pushed it open, and let the light from the cavern flowers pour into the entryway. Luca hung back with the dolls, an arm slung around each one to keep them from rushing forward.

Rydia was greeted by silence and a shower of dust light drifting all around her. The sconces hanging upon the walls had long been lacking any flame, and were cool to the touch. On the rotting planks that made up the cabin floor, she could see perfectly-formed, petite footsteps crossing the grit toward the parlor. Hanging suspended in mid-air were a pair of Sylphs, their shimmering platinum hair now a sooty gray, and their polished onyx eyes void of light.

* * *

After sharing a meager lunch on the Falcon's deck (although Calca and Brina just watched bemusedly, much to Rydia's discomfort), Luca took point upon their entry of the Sealed Cave. Not knowing what to expect, Rydia was surprised to see that the torches that flanked the entrance of the cavern, made of various skulls bound together with strips of leather cord and were impaled upon a long stick, probably another type of bone – were burning brightly, like a macabre welcoming committee. They had been lit seventeen years ago, too – she wondered if they never went out, or if someone from Giott's castle routinely checked on them. One thing that was different, however, was the skeleton that normally sat next to the entryway to the cave proper was now gone. She had remembered needing to put Luca's necklace around the skeleton to gain entry last time. Luca watched Rydia's eyes flick to the doorway, and nodded.

"The skeleton that was there got destroyed when all of the monsters poured out of the cave fifteen years ago," she explained. "They had forced the seal open from the inside, and flew out in a mad stampede. Cecil and the others were able to just waltz on in."

"I see," Rydia looked down. "And the impostor was inside waiting for them…right?"

"Er…yes, that's what I remember Cecil telling me," Luca frowned. "She was in the crystal room, passed out on the dais. There had been no attempt to remove or harm the crystal, and she went with him willingly. She asked him to take her to the Tower of Babil…which is of course where you found them and kicked her butt back to wherever she came from."

Rydia smiled weakly, shaking her head. "It sounds weird…but I feel like I should remember everything that happened in this cave fifteen years ago, even though it wasn't me."

Luca bit down on her lip, looking away toward the solid marble double-doors before them that would take them into the true entrance of the Sealed Cave. She decided now was a good time to change the subject. "Thank goodness! The seal's still intact. Which means whoever is causing us trouble _now_ hasn't been able to get to the crystal."

Rydia nodded thoughtfully. "We made it in time…"

Luca whirled around to face her, her eyes darkened with worry. "I sure hope so."

Rydia blinked. "What is it?"

Luca put her hands on her hips. "Well, now you've got me thinking back to the monsters that exploded out of here fifteen years ago. If the Red Wings threw their full firepower into it, they may be able to break the seal by brute force."

Rydia gulped. Luca was absolutely right, unfortunately. The Red Wings were the most powerful military force on the planet – there wasn't much they couldn't decimate. And if they had a summoner leading them…that multiplied their destructive power by astronomical amounts. "Then what are we waiting for!?"

Luca shook her head. Calca and Brina mimicked her, their blonde hair bouncing in the candlelight. "You're right. Let's go!" She lifted the pearl necklace from underneath her jacket, lifting it high in the air and closing her eyes. "Brandish thou the seal-unraveling mark, and the path to the Dark Crystal shall be open."

There was a loud crack of lightning that filled the chamber with light and made the ground shake. Rydia cried out and clutched onto Calca and Brina, who were frozen stiff. The marble doors protecting the Sealed Cave blew open, and a rush of hot, putrid air blew over the four of them.

Luca made a face, fanning the air. "Whew, maybe with that stink, no one would actually want to break in here? Eh, regardless, we've got to get our hands on the crystal first!"

Rydia winced as her eyes tried to focus once more after the painful flash of light. "And then what?"

Luca slammed her fist into her hand. "Then we'll head for the Overworld with the Falcon, and let the boss and everyone know about this! With Cecil and the others protecting it, the crystal will be safe as possible."

Rydia could feel the panic starting to rise in her throat. She swore that the cavern torches began to flicker, just as they had when Golbez had assaulted them in this very spot seventeen years ago and snatched the crystal right from under their noses…by a double-crossing proxy. She shook her head, trying to physically dispel the awful memories that were flooding back. "Are we really ready for this?"

Luca, who had no idea what had happened on that dark day, merely flashed her trademark victory sign. "Yup! We'll show 'em what my master's Falcon can do! Besides, I'm sure you're worried about Cecil and the rest, aren't you?"

Rydia nodded reluctantly. "Yeah..."

Luca flipped her hair back and adjusted her goggles on her forehead. "C'mon, let get going!"

As they began their descent into the cave, Rydia tried to distract herself from her disquietude by trying to remember the route she had taken through the cave with Cecil seventeen years ago, so that they could repeat it today and run into as few traps as possible. Even back then, she had been terrified by the cavern – and she hadn't even known all of its horrible secrets upon entry. Stepping into the Sealed Cave was little like entering a portal to Hell – magma from the surface-level of the Underworld poured down the cavern walls in all directions, drowning the entire atmosphere in a steamy, fiery glow that did little for the otherwise profound darkness that seemed to claw its way up from the furthest depths. The crystal chamber was at the very bottom of the cave, carved into a ledge that could only be reached by climbing down several sets of fraying ropes that were left hanging from random ledges, the bridges between the rocky plateaus long-rotted or destroyed.

The climbing had been the worst part of all – Rydia could handle the trap doors that would come to life and try to eat your hand as a snack, and the legions of undead that would quietly sneak up on you or scratch at your ankles from piles of bones scattered on the ground that otherwise appeared to be benign. When she had last gone through the cavern with Cecil, Rosa, Kain and Edge, she had put on a brave face and forced herself to climb down all of the ropes herself, even though she could have just as easily summoned an eidolon to take her from one platform to the next. But the eidolons she knew at the time would not have been able to fit all five of them, and she had not wanted to risk separation from the others nor, worse yet, did she want to be seen as a coward.

But now, summoning an eidolon wasn't even an option anymore – and that stung worse than even the rope fibers that tore through her un-calloused palms. The more she thought about it, the more Rydia felt like she had been defanged.

But Luca took everything in stride, even offering to carry the dolls on her back as they climbed down so that Rydia could focus on just getting herself down safely. They had developed an awkward, but acceptable routine – Luca would climb down the ropes first, and set the dolls loose on any monsters that were waiting for them. She would then wait for Rydia at the base of the rope, who would inch her way down and fall the last few feet into Luca's arms.

"I feel like I'm not being any help at all," Rydia frowned as they completed yet another level and began to cross into a winding tunnel.

"Rydia, if you weren't telling us where to go, I'd be wandering around in circles," Luca said, lovingly punching her shoulder. "There are so many chambers in here, and they all look the same to me. It's amazing that you remember as much as you do about this place." They paused for a moment, watching with a mix of fascination and aversion as Calca launched himself upon a prowling Cait Sith, a large, yellow cat with whiskers that crackled with lethal levels of electricity. Calca expertly sliced the cat's throat with his knife from atop its back, avoiding the twitching whiskers entirely as the cat collapsed to the ground. Brina stood at the side of the battlefield, doing a twirling dance that was generating a Protect spell around her brother, even though the monster was well on its way to dead.

"Er…so do dwarven dolls normally come with hunting knives like that, or was that your own addition?" Rydia blinked.

"Well how did you learn to use weapons?" Luca asked, totally serious. "Of course all of our dolls came with their own gear!"

"And now I'm starting to understand more and more about how you ended up the way you are," Rydia shook her head, smiling. "Oh, and for the record…human dolls normally just come with clothes. Maybe a hairbrush if you were rich and could afford one of the nicer ones that actually had hair. I was not one of those lucky few."

"I definitely know what I'm getting you for your next birthday, then!" Luca grinned, and Rydia shook her head.

"No, I'm good…really. Thanks though."

* * *

When they reached the rope bridge that crossed the final chasm to the crystal chamber, Rydia paused for a moment, blocking the bridge and turning toward Luca and the dolls.

"The last time I was here, there was a final trap that was sprung after we acquired the crystal. It was a demon-infused wall that tried to run us off the ledge."

"Mmmm…" Luca tapped her chin. "Did you guys destroy it like you did the trap doors?"

"Yes. I summoned Leviathan to help…but…" Rydia looked down. "That's not an option anymore…"

"But you know lots of other magic, right?" Luca smiled. "So we'll be fine! And that's even if the trap is reset – seems unlikely if you blew it to pieces with the King of the Eidolons himself."

"I hope you're right," Rydia frowned. "But I just wanted everyone to be prepared for the worst."

They gingerly crossed the bridge, forced to cross single-file to both better distribute the weight and because it was hardly wide enough for either of the girls to walk together, nor for each of them to walk with a doll. Rydia noticed that Luca kept gazing down into the depths below, where the magma that had been pouring down the cavern walls and following them in their descent all afternoon still could not be seen pooling – they were still at least a mile away from the true bottom of the cave.

"If you keep staring, you'll just get dizzy and nervous," Rydia offered gently. Luca looked away and shook her head.

"Oh…it's not that."

"Hmmm?" Rydia asked, but either Luca didn't hear her, or she didn't want to elaborate.

Once they had safely reached the other side, Rydia stepped up to the crystal chamber doors to get a better look. If she was remembering correctly, last time the doors had been emblazoned with a carving of a man, and that had been what turned into the demon when they tried to escape. But this time, the ivory-colored, marble doors were smooth and featureless. Rydia let out a small sigh of happiness.

"Perhaps you _are_ right – there's no evidence of a trap this time!"

"Of course I'm right!" Luca winked. "You're not the only one with spot-on intuition, missy. We dwarves call it instinct."

"Right, right," Rydia shook her head, and gestured for Luca and the dolls to come closer. On the count of three, they shoved their cumulative body weight against the doors, forcing them to slowly grind open. As the doors began to part, Rydia could feel the warm, hallowed light of the Crystal of Darkness pour over her body – there was no doubt that the crystal was safe, shedding its light like it always did.

Calca and Brina stood by the doors, on watch as Rydia climbed the dais and reached up, taking hold of the crystal. She realized that she had never actually touched one before, and marveled at how alive it felt within her hands – she couldn't tell if the pulse she was feeling was from the beat of her own heart, or from something deep within the amber-colored glass of the crystal. As Rydia gazed upon it, she saw her own emerald gaze reflected back at her – and then briefly saw the color of her reflection flicker from green to amber, and then back again. It had only been for a second, but she was positive about what she saw.

"What…?" Rydia blinked, stumbling backwards. _Where have I see those eyes before?_ She nearly fell down the steps of the dais in shock, and Luca rushed up behind her, grasping her upper arms and steadying her just in time.

"Rydia!" Luca cried. "Are you OK?"

"Yes…" Rydia gazed down into the crystal again, but it stubbornly only showed her reflection once more. "Did you see that just now…? Something flashed in the crystal…"

"I couldn't see over your shoulder, sorry," Luca blinked. "Maybe a trick of the light? The crystal dulled a little when you took hold of it."

"Oh…" Rydia bit her lip. "Maybe that was it." She tucked the crystal in her arms, cradling it like a newborn child. "Let's just get out of here. Can the dolls take point?"

Luca nodded, turning toward Calca and Brina. "OK you guys – we're going back up now! Lead the way!"

Calca and Brina both bowed, and turned to walk out of the crystal chamber. Luca followed them, and Rydia stole one last glance at the now-empty dais before scrambling after them.

As soon as Rydia crossed the threshold between the crystal chamber and the bridge that would take them across the chasm and on their way out of the cave, she felt a familiar trembling beneath her feet. Her stomach sunk as she whirled around, watching as a sheen of light washed over the now-closed marble doors to the crystal room and began to expand outward, solidifying into a rectangle that took up the entire length of the strip of land they could walk on before needing to cross the bridge. Another flash sparkled from behind, and Rydia turned just in time to see a vein of sparkling light spread across the entryway to the bridge. Calca and Brina pounded on it frantically, only to be thrown to the ground – it was a barrier, and it had blocked their only means of escape.

Luca's gaze moved from the dolls to the unnerving monument that was forming before their eyes. The rectangle of light had transformed into a solid gray marble wall, and clawing its way through it like it was struggling through quicksand was a pair of glinting claws attached to skeleton arms, along with a smooth, chattering skull that was filled with triangle-shaped teeth and had narrow, milky slits for eyes – like someone had thrown a bucket of hot wax on its face and carved out crude slashes over the burned and dried-up eyeballs beneath.

Luca gulped. "And this would be the Demon Wall, right?" All Rydia could do was nod.

Luca scratched her head. "You know, I might have just remembered that Cecil mentioned he had to disable the traps of the cave again when he was rescuing Fake-Rydia from the crystal chamber."

"Oh…well, that's good to know…" Rydia trailed off. Her eyes were still trained on the Demon Wall, which had now successfully wedged its claws into the ground between itself and the party and had begun to drag itself forward, tearing deep crevices in the cavern floor as its claws dug in. It would only be a matter of a minutes before it had reached the ledge, meaning that Rydia, Luca and the dolls would have no place to go but _over_ – into the boiling magma below.

Luca stared at the wall incredulously. "So, what now?"

Rydia blinked and pressed her hand to her forehead, which she realized was blazing hot. Now was not the time to be lost in thought – but her heart was still beating erratically from what she had seen in the crystal chamber, and the dulled crystal now felt slippery in her hands from sweat, and cold as glass. She needed to get her head back into the situation before them – and fast.

"Luca, can you find a way to slow it down?" Rydia asked shakily. "I need a few moments to cast a spell."

"I think I have something in here that will help…" Luca muttered, and began digging in her pouch. "Aha, Spider's Silk! This should do the trick." She launched the glass vial at the wall, which shattered upon contact and left a sticky white web plastered over the demon's face. The web began to expand and stretch over the entirety of the wall, covering it in a faint glow. The demon reached up with its claws, angrily scratching at the webs and halting progress for at least a little while.

Rydia backed away as far as she could manage, until her backside had hit the magic barrier by the bridge. Still clutching the crystal to her chest, she closed her eyes and tried to calm the hurried rush of her heart. It had been too long since she had cast a spell of such magnitude – and the last time she had done so, she had turned it against her mirror image– the shadow woman who had stolen her likeness and tried to murder her friends. But Rydia knew nothing less would do if they had any hope of defeating the Demon Wall themselves and without her eidolons – she had to call upon the forbidden black magic, Meteor.

 _Heavens above, tear asunder and heed my cry for aid – destroy my enemies and all those who threaten the sanctity of the crystals! I, Rydia of Mist, implore that the will of the stars themselves become one with my own!_

The cavern began to darken, and shriek of whistling cut through the air from high above. Luca gasped, kneeling next to Calca and Brina, who were cowering in her arms. Rydia's breathing became ragged and heavy as the first meteor burst from the sky, smashing into the Demon Wall and leaving a black smudge of ash as it bounced off and flew into the abyss below. Rydia gritted her teeth, clenching the crystal so tightly that the blood circulation to her hands became strained.

 _I need more power…must concentrate!_

More meteors began to rain down, at first trickling in like a spring shower, but began to steadily increase in size and strength as they pummeled into the wall. Fist-sized portions began to break off, and fractures climbed up from various impact sites, weaving through the wall's form like spider webs. Just as Rydia silently urged herself to push through what she hoped what would become the last wave of fatigue to ravage her body, she felt a shock of electricity run up her spine and burst in her skull, causing her to collapse to her knees and scream out. A breathy, cold voice whispered in her ear, and the flash of amber eyes filled the darkness.

 _"The likes of you don't deserve either the Eidolons or the Crystals."_

"No!" Rydia gasped, dropping the crystal to the floor and grasping her head, whipping it back and forth to try to dispel the piercing glare and the voice. _"Leave me alone!"_ The meteors started to die down, and the room began to fill with the light of the glowing magma once again.

"Rydia!" Luca shrieked. "Hold on!" She looked up at Calca and Brina, giving them an encouraging smile. "You know what to do, right? I give the codeword, and you take it from there, OK? We've practiced lots…and now it's show time!"

Calca and Brina stared up at her, saying nothing. Luca reached in her jacket pocket, pulling out a small remote control with a slider switch and a single button. Clicking the switch, she unlocked the mechanism and let her finger hover over the button momentarily.

"Go, Calcabrina!"

She slammed her finger down, and the dolls' limbs began to stretch and extend several feet longer, distorting their petite bodies and causing their clothes to tear with a loud ripping noise. Calca and Brina turned toward each other, grasping hands and in a burst of purple smoke, merged into a massive, six foot doll with grinding metallic joints and lolling glass yellow eyes. Calca and Brina's silicone "flesh" had retracted into their metal skeletons, leaving their combined form – Calcabrina – more android than human. Calcabrina turned away from Luca and clumsily stomped toward the Demon Wall, pulling back a fist the size of Luca's head and smashing it into one of the sets of fractures Rydia had caused with her magic. As the wall crumbled under the assault, the other fist split open to reveal a flamethrower, and began dousing the Demon Wall in fire.

Rydia gasped for air and managed to open her eyes just in time to see the Demon Wall collapse into rubble under what she could swear was a giant mechanical doll's battering fists. She reached out, grabbing hold of the crystal once more and pulling it into her lap as she rubbed her eyes with her free hand. There was a flash of light, and the barrier behind them disappeared – along with the giant doll, which had transformed back into the more familiar (but now knocked-out and naked) Calca and Brina.

"We…got it!" Rydia cried.

Luca jumped up, tucking the remote control she was holding back into her pocket and kneeling down next to the dolls. "Nice job, Calca and Brina! Good thing I brought a spare set of clothes just in case this happened…" She dug around in her pouch and pulled out two new outfits. Rydia dragged herself up to her feet and walked over, silently taking Brina into her arms and helping dress her while Luca took care of Calca.

"Thank you…" Rydia's hands were shaking as she buttoned Brina's dress.

"We should be thanking you," Luca said firmly. "You set up the pins so Calca and Brina could knock 'em down. And more importantly, are you OK? You were so white; I thought you had become a ghost."

"I'm OK now. Maybe it was too much to try to cast Meteor after all this time. My body…it's not tempered for battle like it used to be. I've always been able to use black magic, but…" Rydia looked down. "…I'd gotten used to battling with the eidolons by my side all this time. And my body…it's just not adjusting…it won't listen to me anymore. There was another voice…and I…" Rydia gave up trying to explain herself and covered her face, letting out a loud moan. "Argh…this is so frustrating!"

"It will come back to you, in time. I promise." Luca reached under the nape of Calca and Brina's necks, holding in a button that was so small, Rydia would have never found it unless she knew exactly where to look. The two dolls sat up, staring at each other with wide blue eyes before looking back up at Luca and smiling. Luca patted them each on the head, and stood up, brushing herself off and folding her arms under her chest.

"Rydia…do you know why I wanted to come to the Sealed Cave so badly?" she asked softly. "Even though I knew it would be dangerous?"

Rydia shook her head as she nervously shifted the crystal back and forth in her hands. "No…I just chalked it up to you wanting to prove your father wrong about what you were capable of…yet again."

"Well, that is true too," Luca smiled a little. She walked over to the ledge next to the bridge, staring down into the abyss below. Calca and Brina watched her curiously, but stayed by Rydia's side. "But more than that, I wanted to see my mom again."

"Your mom…?" Rydia tilted her head. Luca nodded, and Rydia realized that her eyes were glassy with tears, shining from the light of the magma pouring down the walls around them.

"My mom was laid to rest here. All of my ancestors are, actually. The Sealed Cave isn't just the home of the fourth Crystal of Darkness. It's also the royal family's tomb. Has been for hundreds of years."

Rydia let out a breath she didn't even realize she had been holding. "Oh Luca…I had no idea."

"Well, it's not like it's my icebreaker for parties," Luca drawled, and Rydia wasn't sure if she was supposed to laugh or not. "Humans typically bury their dead – but that's kind of difficult here in the underworld. The ground is mostly rock and it's too hard to dig a hole unless you want to blast one open with a tank. So instead, we return the dead to our sun – the magma." Luca pressed her fingers to her lips. "The royal guard would have escorted my mother's body right where we are standing, and…" She nodded toward the darkness. "The key that unlocks the seal to the cavern changes each generation as a result of a new royal being buried, because that sovereign's soul is now responsible for protecting the crystal in the afterlife. Prior to Mom's passing, the key was something else entirely – I don't even know what. But when she died…her essence attached itself to this pearl necklace, and that became the new key." Luca twisted the strands of the luminous gemstones between her fingers. "This necklace was what my father had given to her when he proposed. As she was dying…one of the last things she told my father was that she wanted me to have it. I think she knew that it would be the new key to the seal."

Rydia pressed her hand to her mouth, feeling her own tears trickle down her cheek and drip onto the crystal in her arms. "Luca…" Calca and Brina turned to look at Rydia, and they both silently embraced her legs, much to Rydia's surprise. She felt her chest fill with palliative warmth even as their cold, silicone flesh pressed into hers.

Luca closed her eyes, clutching the necklace tightly as her steady, clear voice echoed throughout the chamber, dulling even the roar of the magma.

"Mom…I finally made it. I'm sorry it's not under better circumstances, but…I just wanted to say thank you. You gave me life, and although I never knew you, I've always felt your protective spirit by my side. I've done my best to become the kind of woman I think you would want me to be – I know I still have a long way to go until I'm the Queen our people deserve, but I'm working toward my dream of becoming an engineer so that I can bring all the wonders of our planet to our homeland – flight, technology, science…I want the dwarves – and our human friends – to craft any kind of future they want." Luca sniffled and opened her eyes, gazing back toward Rydia and the dolls.

"Please continue to watch over my friends and me for just a little while longer…OK?"

 _And please, continue to protect us as well, Mommy!_ Rydia prayed fervidly, pressing her forehead against the crystal and feeling its gentle radiance pour into her once more. _Cecil…Rosa…Ceodore…and everyone else…please keep them safe until I can be by their side once more._

* * *

 _"Kain, don't listen!" Rosa whispered in his ear. "Resist him!"_

 _Rydia was cowering in the corner, her mouth agape and her body paralyzed with fear as she watched Kain collapse to the ground, clutching his head while screaming in agony. After a few heartbeats, Kain lifted his head._

 _"It's…all right," he groaned, and gently pushed Rosa and Cecil away, standing up on his own. "I'm back in control of myself."_

 _Cecil let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Rosa held her hands to her chest, biting her lip. Rydia noticed that Edge was inching ever closer to her. Their eyes met, and his gaze implored her not to breathe a word. For once, Rydia listened to him, pressing her lips together to indicate she understood._

 _Suddenly, Kain launched himself onto Cecil, knocking him down to the ground and bringing down his fists with as much fury as he could summon. A chorus of screams erupted from Rosa and Rydia as Kain grabbed Cecil's throat with one hand and shoved the other inside his cape, grasping the crystal of darkness and tearing it away as he stood up to flee. Rydia willed her legs to give chase, but when she tried to run, she felt Edge's hand grasping her own tightly, holding her back._

* * *

"Rydia? What's wrong?"

Rydia's eyes snapped open, and she shook her head. "I…I was just remembering something…A bad memory from a long time ago."

They were back at the entryway to the Sealed Cave. Luca and the dolls were staring at Rydia like she had grown a second head. Rydia flushed and looked away, but the sudden sound of lightweight, yet confident footfalls coming from ahead of them made Rydia quickly whip her head forward.

"I see you saved me the trouble."

A young woman matching the description of the assailant who had bombed the dwarves had strode through the underworld-facing entrance of the cavern, a gossamer gown dragging behind her bare feet as she stopped before Rydia and arched an eyebrow.

"So you're one of the last surviving summoners?"

Rydia felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. The girl before her had scintillating amber eyes – the same as she had seen reflected back at her in the Crystal of Darkness and the same eyes that had managed to penetrate her mind and stop her Meteor spell. Right away, Rydia realized her gut had been right the entire time – the Feymarch _was_ connected to the theft of the crystals. If this girl knew about summoners, that was all the further evidence she needed.

"You're the one behind what happened to the Eidolons!" Rydia hissed. The mysterious girl tilted her head and cracked a smile.

"I hate repeating myself, but…the likes of you don't deserve either the _Eidolons_ or the _Crystals_."

 _This girl…she was the one speaking to me in my head!_ Rydia thought, her heart racing. _But how…!?_

Luca, who was looking back and forth between Rydia and the girl and totally confused about where this conversation was going, had decided she had enough. "Who asked you!?"

The mysterious girl shrugged. "There is one who's far more worthy of the crystals." She eyed the crystal in Rydia's hands as the words fell from her lips. Calca and Brina pushed ahead of Rydia, holding out their arms and staring down the girl defiantly.

"Calca!" Luca gasped.

"Brina!" Rydia cried at the same time.

The mysterious girl shook her head, raising her hand in the air. A cascade of lightning shot down from the ceiling, striking Calca and Brina square in their chests. Wordlessly, the two dolls slumped over, smoke pouring from the gaping holes that had been torn in their circuitry. Rydia could see the sparking wires through the holes that had been burned through their brand-new clothes. "These ridiculous toys. What a waste of my time. Now, _hand over the crystal_."

Luca clenched her fist as Rydia stepped forward, raising her chin. "I _won't_ let you have it!"

The girl shook her head, and down came another strike of lightning, crashing into Rydia's back. Rydia moaned and collapsed to the ground, the crystal bouncing out of her arms and rolling right next to the girl's feet. She bent down, scooping it up and turning it over in her fingers as if to investigate its authenticity.

Luca gasped, kneeling down next to the fallen summoner. "Rydia!"

"Mmmm…" Rydia mumbled, drifting dreamily between a conscious and unconscious state.

The mysterious girl turned to leave, waving a hand dismissively. "With this, all four Dark Crystals are back in our hands."

Luca growled, leaping to her feet and reaching to grab hold of the girl's trailing dress. _"Wait!"_

Without bothering to turn around, the mysterious girl summoned one last round of lightning, shooting Luca in her outstretched arm. Luca screamed as the burning pain shot through her body, stumbling backwards and falling next to Rydia.

"Your lives are not my concern," the girl hissed, and disappeared through the mouth of the cavern.


	8. Act Eight: The Engineer's Tale

Act Eight: The Engineer's Tale | The Silent Scream

"Nnngh!"

Luca clenched her jaw, fighting through the agony of the inflamed nerves in her arm to turn Rydia over so that she could get some air. A pale pink starburst-shaped scar had materialized on Rydia's chest, and Luca realized that it must have been the exit wound created by the lightning as it shot through her back.

Luca brushed back Rydia's ratty hair that had fallen over her face, and saw her eyelids fluttering rapidly, like she was trapped in a nightmare. "Rydia...you all right?"

Rydia twitched at the sound of Luca's voice, and slowly, her eyes began to slide open, her dilated pupils constricting as the light from the skull torches above hit them. "Luca…! What happened to the Crystal?"

Lucas looked away. "I'm sorry, Rydia. I couldn't stop her."

Rydia bit down on her lower lip and sat up; feeling like her head had transformed into a spinning top. Her now-empty hands brushed over the exit wound on her chest, the skin surprisingly smooth and still warm with the buzzing electricity that had burned her from within. She _knew_ it was too late for regrets – the past had repeated itself once again, and she had willingly ignored every warning sign thrown at them – but she still couldn't help but wish she had the power to turn back time, even if only for a few precious minutes.

Rydia lowered her eyes. _But if we had just left the crystal alone, that woman would have forced her way through anyway and decimated the Demon Wall – it wasn't like she didn't have the power to do so, especially if she can summon eidolons._ Rydia accepted the uncomfortable realization that perhaps their efforts were meant to just to delay the inevitable – and now they had little time to make their next move.

"Did I hear her correctly while I was out of it?" Rydia asked quietly. "Did she say the four Dark Crystals were in _our_ hands?"

Luca nodded. "Yes…but I wonder who "our" is? Who could she be possibly working with?"

Rydia shook her head. The Red Wings were the only clue they had…and it wasn't exactly the answer she wanted. Perhaps another uncomfortable truth was on the horizon. "We need to hurry...before they get their hands on the Overworld crystals, too!"

Luca stood up, offering her hand to Rydia. Rydia grabbed on and let Luca yank her to her feet. As she checked herself for other injuries, Luca approached the two dolls, which were unmoving, both pairs of glass eyes staring listlessly ahead. "Calca...Brina."

Rydia reached up to inspect the ruby hyacinth in her hair, relieved that it had not shattered when she had been struck by the lightning. Turning to Calca and Brina, she bowed her head. "Thanks, you two. You were kinder to us than we ever deserved."

Luca gathered their broken bodies in her arms, pressing her lips to Brina's matted, half-melted hair. "I'm going to repair you. I promise!"

The two girls wordlessly exited the cavern that four had originally entered, and made their way aboard the Falcon. Luca set Calca and Brina down on the rear of the deck, and began to lap around all of the machinery, investigating it for sabotage. Rydia, who wouldn't know the difference between something being broken or not, sat down next to the dolls, silently combing her fingers through Calca's hair, which had not been as destroyed as his sister's and was still able to be brushed.

After a few moments, Luca let out a frustrated wail and shook her head. Rydia looked up at her, fearing for the worst.

"The Falcon…is it…"

Luca crossed her arms over her chest. "That girl didn't even pretend to take us seriously."

Rydia blinked. "Huh?"

Luca rested her hand on the Falcon's steering wheel, clenching her teeth. "She didn't lay so much as a _finger_ on the Falcon."

"Oh…" Rydia looked down at her fingers entangled in Calca's hair. _Of course_ Luca would get more upset at the idea of someone not even bothering to challenge her versus the idea of someone actively trying to make her life hell. That was the dwarven way, after all – go big or go home. But she realized Luca was right – they weren't even a blip on the mysterious girl's radar. "Yeah…And she didn't kill us when she had the chance..."

Luca slammed her fist down on the steering wheel, making Rydia jump. "So, it's not even _worth her time_ to kill us?"

Rydia couldn't help but let out an anxious, high-pitched giggle – it was all just so ridiculous. By entering the Sealed Cave on their own with their half-brained scheme, they had put far more effort into trying to kill themselves than their new enemy. "Ha ha – doesn't look like it!"

Luca smirked at the sound of Rydia's awkward laughter. The only way they could combat this awful situation was with humor, and between the two of them, she thought they had at least plenty of that. "Well, we'll show her. Let's make our way to the Overworld! Are you ready to go, Rydia?"

"I'm ready," Rydia said, rising to her feet. "We still have four crystals left – and there are far more of our allies than there are of her. She's going to be sorry she ever messed with us!"

"Hell yeah!" Luca cheered, slapping Rydia a high-five. "Man your battle stations – time for liftoff!"

Luca fired up the Falcon's engines, and Rydia felt the familiar rumble of the ships' gears engaging as they began to lift off the ground. Clinging to a mast beneath one of the sails, Rydia watched as the entrance to the Sealed Cave became smaller and smaller, until it was just a little black dot in a sea of magma. As they sailed over King Giott's castle, Rydia gave a silent farewell wave, glancing down at Calca and Brina and letting a small smile form on her lips when she thought about how Cecil would react to seeing them again – she wondered if she would get a rare glimpse of him dropping his normally unflappable persona since the last time he had encountered the dolls, they were much scarier.

When they emerged from the gateway to the Underworld, Rydia was surprised to see that twilight was already starting to claim the early-summer sky. She had always lost track of time when she was underground, and today was no exception. The burgeoning smile on her lips faltered as she caught a glimpse at the twin moons, the new arrival now brighter and bigger than ever.

Rydia stared up at the sky in dread, her hair tangling in the wind as she took a hesitant step forward to get a better view beyond the Falcon's sails. A shiver ran through her body, and she hugged herself, digging her fingernails into her arms to try to pinch herself awake. But when she closed her eyes and opened them again, the second moon was still there – of course. She hadn't entirely expected it to disappear while she was away from home, but for it to grow so large in so short a time…Did that mean it was getting _closer_?

Rydia glanced over at Luca, who was paying no mind to anything but the route laid out before her. To Luca, one moon or two made no difference – they dealt with no such phenomenon in the Underworld. "Luca, what is our next course of action?"

She replied without turning her head. "We'll proceed south until we reach the northern coast of Baron! They won't expect us to sneak in from the rear!"

Rydia nodded to herself, turning to glance out the side of the ship once more. She wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of _sneaking_ into Baron – that implied that they were not going to be welcome, which she prayed was not the case.

 _Cecil…we're coming as fast as we can. You'll have an explanation for all of this…right?_

It was a few minutes later that Rydia saw the strangely-shaped shadow cutting across the ocean on starboard. Stepping closer to the railing, Rydia narrowed her eyes and pointed.

"Luca! What's that over there?"

Luca turned toward Rydia, reaching into her pouch and pulling out a scope. After a few moments, she lowered it, blinking. "A black chocobo! And the person riding it is a friend of ours…Take a look, I need to keep my eyes peeled with it starting to get dark!" She tossed the scope to Rydia, who caught it one-handed and raising it to her eye.

Sure enough, Luca was right – but it wasn't just one person riding – there were two. The person in the rear was a young woman with ash blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, dressed in a sea foam green miter and layers of elegant lace and silk robes that fluttered in the wind. The man in front of her looked to be a similar age, with a long brown braid that whipped like a banner, the girl crouching behind him with her hands wrapped around his chest to keep from getting hit. His dark blue overcoat was draped over a familiar green and white-striped romper.

"Palom!?" Rydia blinked.

Luca nodded, her voice suddenly dipping dangerously low. "And that's not Porom, whoever it is with him."

Rydia lowered the scope. "No...it did look like a girl, though." She looked at Luca, who was visibly clenching all over and hunching her shoulders as she made a harsher turn than was necessary on the wheel.

"Ooh that _sneak_! After all that sweet talk he gave me!"

"Sweet talk!?" Rydia blanched. "Please don't tell me there has been sweet talk as of late…"

"There might have been a little more than sweet talk."

"Oh gods…" Rydia felt her stomach churn and collapsed the scope between her hands. "I thought this little crush was dead in the water!?"

"Oh it's dead now, I assure you!" Luca growled, and Rydia shook her head. At least Luca hadn't turned the ship around to follow him – she supposed that was some sort of progress.

It wasn't that Rydia hated Palom – she reserved the feeling of hatred for a very select few individuals that had crossed her path over her lifetime. But as she had watched him grow up from a bratty child to sulky teen and finally to entitled young adult, she knew that he would never be compatible with someone as noble and spirited as Luca, who demanded respect for her mind and her actions, and not for her title (which was the polar opposite of how Palom operated). From afar, this was easy for Rydia to see, but she supposed for someone like Luca, who had grown-up alongside Palom and had stumbled through adolescence together with him, the lines of logic and reason were blurrier. Luca had had a crush on Palom since the first day he barreled up to her to flirt at Cecil's wedding – and although the infatuation had been cute when they were kids, as they had gotten older it became much more drama-filled and are-they/aren't-they for Rydia's taste, especially as Luca began to take on more royal duties and Palom began to buckle down on his training to become a sage.

The lecture Rydia was mentally preparing for Luca was interrupted when she heard a frantic scraping coming from the rear of the ship. Turning around, she let out a cry of delight when she saw Calca and Brina standing up, looking around curiously. Calca looked down at the hole in his chest, absentmindedly sticking a finger through it, and Brina's head tilt was even more enunciated than usual because part of her hair had melted to her shoulder.

Luca had heard the commotion as well, shifting a lever to put the ship on auto-pilot and joining Rydia. When she saw the dolls up and about, she jumped up and down excitedly, letting out whoops of joy.

"Calca! Brina!"

"Oh, thank goodness! I'm so glad you're not hurt!" Rydia exclaimed. She kneeled down to give Calca a big hug, but the doll made a strange hissing noise, reaching for his belt and extracting his knife. Luca yanked Rydia away just as Calca swiftly brought the blade down, lodging it into the Falcon's deck instead of her shoulder. Rydia screamed as she crawled backwards, and Luca provided cover, reaching into her tool belt to pull out her weapon.

"Calca! Brina!?" Rydia gasped. Brina followed her brother's lead, pulling out her own knife and clumsily throwing herself at Luca, who easily deflected the strike with her tomahawk and sent her flying into a chest of first aid supplies.

"Stop it! Both of you!" Luca shrieked, but Brina merely picked herself back up again and readied herself for another attack, her head jerking unnervingly as she tried to focus her gaze – one of her glass eyes had been shattered when Luca fought her off and was now just a black pit with wires hanging out. A loud popping noise burst from Calca's chest as he stumbled forward, waving his knife erratically. Rydia reached for her ice rod, not being able to bear keeping her eyes open as she swung at Calca and felt the rod crack against the side of his head. When she cocked open one eye, she saw him splayed on the deck, the sputtering and popping getting louder as his body jerked uncontrollably.

"That lightning strike..." Rydia whimpered.

"Their behavior circuits must have gone haywire!" Luca shook her head. "I don't understand how they could possibly be moving…I thought they were totally fried."

"Luca, we can't keep this up!" Rydia had scrambled to her feet just in time to shake off Brina, who had abandoned her knife but had dived forward in an attempt to throttle Rydia, only managing to grab hold of her thigh instead. Rydia forcefully kicked Brina off, and lifted her leg to plant her boot square into the doll's chest.

"Don't lay a finger on them, Rydia," Luca warned, and Rydia paused, her leg in mid-air as Brina writhed underneath her.

"What!?"

Luca looked down, clenching her jaw. "Trust me, okay? Just let me deal with them."

"Do you have an idea?!" Rydia asked, reluctantly backing away from Brina. The doll took the opportunity to slither away, pressing her hands down on Calca's back and glowing with a soft green light as she cast a Cure spell on him. Luca swallowed and approached the two dolls, lifting her tomahawk in the air as Calca and Brina both turned to look up at her, twin sneers curling on their lips. Their blue eyes had turned an alarming, glowing red, and smoke had begun to drift out of the wounds on their chests.

"I'm sorry," Luca said softly, and swung the tomahawk in a wide arch, slicing cleanly through the dolls' necks and watching wordlessly as their heads crashed to the floor in tandem with one dull thump. Their lifeless bodies followed, crashing to the deck while the heads rolled away aimlessly, finally coming to a stop when they hit one of the deck's railings. Brina's "good" eye had snapped shut, but both of Calca's were still wide open, staring into the abyss unblinking and back to their original calming blue. Both Calca and Brina's mouths were hanging open, as if they had been struck mid-scream.

Rydia looked away from the decapitated heads as a wave of nausea washed over her, pressing her hand to her chest. "Luca…"

Luca dropped her tomahawk, falling to her knees and covering her face with her hands as her body wretched with silent sobs. Rydia bit her lip and turned away, letting her have what little privacy could be managed on an airship mid-flight, and slowly walked over to the steering wheel, gazing out into the horizon. She could see the familiar outline of the mountain range that acted as the northern barrier for Mist, which meant they would soon be over Baron. Rydia lowered her head, whispering a quick prayer for her fellow villagers. She wondered if anyone would see their ship as they flew over and know that it was her. She hadn't told anyone where she was going except the village chief – and she hadn't said when she would return. Deep in the recesses of her hidden heart, she had secretly hoped Asura and Leviathan would change their minds and tell her she could stay in the Feymarch again, this time for as long as she wanted.

Rydia stumbled as a sudden blast was let off, the proximity close enough to cause the Falcon to shudder. Rydia, who was still holding onto the scope Luca had leant her, pried it back open held it back up to her eye to see what had made the noise, although darkness was falling fast and making it nearly impossible to see.

An eruption of red light and smoke greeted her, and Rydia realized it was coming from another airship. Moments later, there was a deafening crash, and Rydia was knocked to the deck, the scope clattering out of her hands and rolling away.

"Cannon fire!" Rydia screeched. "LUCA!"

Another blast quickly followed, and Rydia watched with rising panic as the cannonball soared high above her head, smashing into the tops of several masts that came splintering down to the deck and tearing through a sail. Luca sat wordlessly as debris rained down upon her, still staring at the inanimate bodies of Calca and Brina.

Rydia used the steering wheel to pull herself back up, shouting back to Luca desperately. "It's the Red Wings! They're trying to shoot us down!"

When Luca gave no reply, Rydia turned back to the control deck, trying to figure out the quickest way to get them _away_ from Baron. A navigation system was lit up, with a dotted red line pointed toward Baron's location on a map. Next to it was a lever that had only two settings listed that were obvious to Rydia: Auto-Pilot, and Manual. Grasping the clutch, Rydia shifted the lever down to Manual, and the red dotted line pointing to Baron turned blue. Taking hold of the steering wheel, Rydia used every last ounce of strength she had to turn it as hard as she could to the left, hoping she could swing a wide enough trajectory that would not only get her away from Baron, but also from Mist. If the Red Wings continued their assault over the village, innocent people could be caught right in the middle of the crossfire. Rydia gritted her teeth and kept one eye on the map, watching as the blue lines slowly inched away from Baron, and started pointing toward the middle of an ocean instead.

Now that they were flying away from their assailants, the next cannon that shot out at them struck the Falcon in the rear, and Rydia felt the ship drop dramatically, her heart leaping into her throat from the sudden loss in altitude. She tried pulling another lever that she thought might grant them some lift, but heard a sickening grinding noise coming from behind. The cannon must have damaged a rotor – or perhaps several, by the way sparks were flying down from above. "I can't keep us in the air anymore!" Rydia screamed. All she could see on the map was a sea of blue, and realized that at any moment, they were probably going to crash into the ocean and drown.

Suddenly, Luca appeared behind her, gently taking Rydia's shoulder and shoving her aside.

"Emergency landing time!" Luca took hold of the wheel, giving it one last twist with far less effort than Rydia had to make. "Hold on to me!" Rydia grabbed onto Luca's waist, closing her eyes as she felt them drop faster and faster in the sky, another explosion echoing behind them before everything went black.

* * *

"Mm...nnngh..."

Rydia opened her eyes, just the effort of moving her eyelids feeling as if she had five-ton weights attached to her eyelashes. She found herself splayed on the deck of the Falcon, about a dozen feet away from where she had started at the steering wheel.

The sky had not gotten too much darker – so surely that meant she had only been out for a little while. Agonizingly, she climbed to her feet, trying to ignore the protests of all the muscles in her body as she put her hands on her hips and took a look at her surroundings.

For starters, they weren't in the ocean – a very good thing. They were on a beach, and even in the fast-fading light, Rydia could see a cluster of houses and buildings not so far away – miraculously, Luca had managed to crash-land them next to civilization. Further away, Rydia could also make out a mountain range, although it didn't look very big from where she was standing.

 _Huh…so where did we end up? Some sort of island with mountains…definitely not Baron or Mist._

"Luca?" Rydia called out.

"Irk…" A low moan came from underneath a pile of collapsed sails.

Rydia ran to the sails, tossing away the heavy canvas until she spotted her friend lying face-down, the goggles that had been resting on her head shattered. "Luca!"

Luca shook her head, standing up as she reached up and plucked the broken goggles away from her face, grimacing before tossing them overboard onto the beach. "I'm okay...that happened before we crashed. Something hit my face as we were going down."

They both turned to see what had become of Calca and Brina. Miraculously, all of their parts were still present and accounted for, not that it changed anything that had happened before they went down.

Luca pressed her lips together, shaking her head. The light had still not yet returned to her eyes – they were two dull orbs of gold, void of their former luster. "Calca…Brina…I'm sorry."

Rydia looked up her friend worriedly – was she going to break down again? "Luca..."

Luca turned back to Rydia, crossing her arms over her chest and ready for a change of subject, although it was no less dire. "I can tell you right now that we took some serious damage."

Rydia tucked her hair behind her ear anxiously. "Do you think we can fix it?"

Luca looked down, not saying anything.

Rydia frowned. _Luca…! We've gotten this far…we can't give up now! You didn't give up on me…I guess it's time for drastic measures._

Rydia puffed out her chest, putting her hands on her hips and trying bellow in a baritone as she widened her stance. "Just who do you think I am?"

Luca looked up, her mouth twisted in confusion as she furrowed her brows. "Guh!?"

Rydia forced out a deep belly laugh and waggled her finger. ""I'm Cid the airship man; that's what they call me! Just let me at that thing! I'll get 'er back up in a jiffy!" That's what your master would be saying right about now, isn't it?"

Luca stared at Rydia for a few beats before bursting out laughing so hard that she had to clutch her stomach. "You're right!"

Rydia smiled widely, smacking Luca on the back. "See? There you go! That's the spirit. You can fix anything – and I'll be your assistant!"

Luca nodded, snapping her fingers. "We'll need to find some parts for the repairs first! Maybe someone in town can help us."

"Do you know where we are?" Rydia blinked.

"Sure do…" Luca pointed toward the mountain Rydia had spotted earlier. "That happens to be the entrance to the Underworld. In other words…we're kinda back right where we started."

Rydia tilted her head. "So…Agart, then?" Luca nodded, and Rydia pushed up on her tiptoes to peer over Luca's shoulder toward the village. She could see that a few villagers had gathered at the gates, curious about the spectacle that had crashed on their beach. As far as Rydia was concerned, anywhere was better than Baron right now – revelers and all.

"All right, let's go!"

They made their way into town, and although some of the gossips had fled the premises, plenty of people remained behind, eager to greet their new visitors and get a first-hand account of the drama.

But as soon as they saw that one of their two visitors was a dwarf, chaos erupted.

"Whoa!" a little girl shrieked, jumping up and down and pointing to Luca. "Look Mommy, one of our ancestors!" Several other children began to join her, chanting and dithering about.

"Ancestor!?" Luca blinked. "I'm only twenty-one, kid!"

"Oh, she means you're a dwarf," the child's mother said, blushing. "Are you from the Underworld? Welcome to Agart! It's so rare that we get visits from any of the ancestors – this is such a treat!"

The children began to swarm Luca, grabbing her clothes and slinging questions at her from all directions.

"Do all dwarves wear pink?"

"Why are you so tan?"

"When are you going to get your beard?"

"Where's your giant axe?"

 _My stars!_ Rydia blinked. _I've been traveling with a celebrity this whole time…!_ It took all of her willpower not to burst out laughing.

Luca scowled and tried to pull a child off of her who had literally begun to climb up her leg, but Rydia could tell she was secretly pleased at their fawning.

"The answers are: 1) No, pink isn't very popular down there 2) This is the skin I was born with 3) Um, probably not until I'm much older and 4) You should only use your axe for battle – safety first!"

"Ahhhh!" the children squealed, and another parent stepped into the fray, shaking his head.

"Come on, leave them alone…" He glanced up at the girls apologetically. "You're the ones from the crash, right? Is everyone OK?"

"Yes, thank you," Rydia nodded. "But we need help repairing our ship…do you know anyone that could help us find parts?"

"Oh, sure," the man smiled. "My best friend is over at the Agart Inn right now having supper – he's a miner that works with a pilot from Baron – well, calling him just a pilot is a bit of a disservice – he's actually the guy who invented the airship, if you can believe it. Cid Pollendina is his name."

"No kidding?" Luca raised her eyebrows. "Is Cid here now?"

"No, no, he only comes around once in a blue moon for parts, but I'm sure my friend will know exactly what you need – he's worked with Cid for a long time."

"Thank you so much!" Rydia exclaimed. "We'll go over there right now!"

"It's the biggest building in town in the northeast…you can't miss it."

"Thanks," Luca nodded, and they took off, laughing to themselves as parents had to physically restrain their children from following them.

"Our luck is really turning around," Rydia smiled, and Luca smiled back.

"Yeah…too bad Cid wasn't here…that would have just been perfect. But I can do this on my own!"

The Agart Inn was practically bursting at the seams when they arrived – every single table was overcrowded with people, and waitresses were rushing back and forth with platters of food high above their heads, shouting "Behind you!" as they crossed each other's paths. Luca and Rydia looked at each other, dismayed.

"How the heck are we supposed to find this guy?" Luca pouted.

"We should ask the Innkeeper," Rydia offered. "This is a small town – I'm sure he knows everyone if this place is always busy."

The Innkeeper, however, was seemingly quite a star himself, with a long line of people who were waiting to be penciled in for a table or who were just chatting about their day. Luca and Rydia got to the end of the line, shrugging at each other as if to say "What are you going to do?" Other people in the inn had started to notice Luca, and soon steady streams of people were coming up to her as well, welcoming her to Agart and prodding her for information about the Underworld, all of which she cheerfully answered, to her credit. Rydia, totally forgotten thanks to her boring summoner heritage, took the opportunity to do a little eavesdropping. One thing she had learned from her travels around the world during the war was that small towns were always ripe for good gossip.

As the line inched forward, Rydia got closer to a four-top table that was squashing in six diners – none of them appeared to be miners, but they were having some sort of celebration.

"Thank the gods you made it home safely," one of the women said, raising her wine glass. The others cheered and clinked their glasses together.

"What was Baron like?" a man asked.

"The village is surprisingly small for such a powerful nation," the man sitting in the center of the table replied. "It's a lot like Agart where you know your neighbors, but so many people there live in the castle, too. Students of magic, most of their military…the elite of the elite. But everyone there was very kind to me."

"So the rumors about Baron collecting the crystals…are they true?"

Rydia drew in a sharp breath, hoping that she wasn't so loud that it was obvious what she was doing. But no one else was paying attention to her.

"I really don't know...that's news to me. The last thing I heard was that the prince was readying for his trial to join the Red Wings – heard a couple of kids talking about it at the docks. Sounds like it had the castle in a tizzy – it was unexpected."

"Unexpected? Now that's interesting…"

 _Ceodore!_ Rydia pressed her hand to her mouth. _He suddenly joined the Red Wings…? Does that mean…?_ She replayed the memory of the majestic crimson ship that had made its way over Giott's castle before attempting to bomb it into oblivion. _No…Giott said they were only attacked by one person – the mysterious girl who stole the crystal from us. But if she is in control of a Red Wings ship, then what happened to Ceodore…?_

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

Rydia whirled around, and found herself facing the check-in desk, next in line. The innkeeper was smiling at her patiently, his hand holding a feather quill that had already been dipped in ink.

"Oh…I don't need a reservation," Rydia laughed nervously, feeling the blush crawl up her cheek. She couldn't help but feel a little guilty that she had been caught spying on someone's conversation, even if it had been innocent. "I just need help finding a man…we don't have a name, but we were told he'd be here. He's a miner that helps get airship parts for Cid Pollendina?"

"Oh! You're looking for Som," the innkeeper leaned over the counter, pointing to a man in a denim shop suit, sitting alone at a table with a blackened bag of gear sitting in the one chair next to him.

"Thank you," Rydia nodded quickly, dragging Luca away from her fan club much to the protest of the people who had come over to chat with her.

Som looked up from his massive drink when Rydia and Luca approached him, smiling as he leaned back in his chair. Up-close, Rydia could see the pale rings around his eyes where his goggles had been sitting – the rest of his skin was peppered in fine, black dust.

"Well…it's not every day that two ladies as beautiful as you come to my table. What can I do for you?"

"Our airship needs parts for repairs, and we were told you would know where to get some," Luca said, cutting straight to business. Som raised his eyebrows, popping back up so that he was sitting up straight. Something about the way Luca's regal voice sounded when she wanted something made people remember their manners.

"What sorts of problems are you having?" Som asked. Rydia couldn't help but tune out as Luca went into a thorough description of everything she had noticed was wrong, rattling off the names of engine components that Rydia couldn't spell, let alone identify. When she was finished, he nodded and took a long sip of his beer.

"Sounds like the best course of action is to melt down some agartite. It's an ore that should patch up those damaged parts with no issue, and hold up to the heat of the Underworld when you return home."

"Agartite?" Luca crossed her arms over her chest. "Never heard of that. Where can I get it?"

"I just salvaged some myself at the mine down the way," Som replied. "The one in Mount Agart that opened about seven years ago – I can get it for you tomorrow if you'd like."

"It's an emergency," Luca frowned. "Is there any problem with going tonight?"

"No problem except that I'm getting well-past plastered because my shift ended several hours ago," Som laughed. "But if you two want to go in my stead – have at it. I'll even let you borrow some of my gear." He reached over, untying the knapsack he had on his chair and plucking out two leather straps with glass headlamps attached to them. "You'll have to wear these – it's too dark to see in there even during the day, and will be pitch-black at this time of night. If you need them, there are picks right at the entrance of the mine. You'll be looking for rocks with a dusty red sheen. I didn't have a chance to refine any that I found, so once you find them, you'll need to chip away with the pick until you see red crystal. That's the stuff you want to melt down."

"Thank you," Luca said, picking up the headgear and handing one to Rydia. "Anything else we should know?"

"Just be careful…no one is going to be back there until tomorrow morning."

They nodded, thanking him one more time and making their way out of the inn. A man who had been sitting at the table next door leaned over, letting out a loud hiccup.

"Som – please tell me you just did not tell those two ladies to go into the Agart Mine alone, at night?"

"They needed agartite," Som shrugged, taking another sip. "Isn't a little sexist to assume that they can't handle themselves just because they're women?"

"I never said anything of the sort, you moron – but did you remember what phase of the moon it is?"

"Waning…right?"

"Right. And what has a tendency to crawl out of the volcano on nights of the waning moon and go wandering around for a snack?"

Som paused for a moment, staring into his beer as if it would magically reveal the answer. Suddenly, it hit him, and he nervously set his glass down.

"Ah…I'm sure they'll be fine…they'll probably be in and out before it even wakes up. It's still a little early, yet…"

* * *

Rydia gazed up at the waning moon as they crossed the field to the Agart Mine. The headlamp strapped to her forehead felt heavy against her scalp and made her sweat, but she knew she would be grateful for it momentarily – the light of the twin moons wasn't going to reach them where they were going. Luca lumbered a few steps behind with her tomahawk clutched in her fist, keeping an eye out for any monsters that might try to take them for lost travelers and attack.

Rydia found herself still shaken by the breakdown she had witnessed after Luca had finished off Calca and Brina. Luca had certainly done a good job of putting up a cheerful front while in Agart, but Rydia saw her steal a longing glance at the Falcon as they left the village bounds, and she knew the princess was still torturing herself over the fate of her childhood friends. Rydia had never seen Luca so troubled – yet she was flattered that Luca had thought nothing of exposing her most vulnerable self to her – she had trusted Rydia implicitly with her heartbreak.

It made Rydia realize that as painful as it was, she needed to finally be honest with Luca too. If Luca could entrust Rydia with her weaknesses, then Rydia felt obligated to do the same. She was tired of feeling like she had to hide the insecurities that made her human – she wasn't in the Feymarch anymore, after all.

"Luca…" Rydia began as they crossed into the entrance of the Agart Mine. Both girls clicked on their helmets at the same time, and twin beams of light shot out in front of them, illuminating a dreary, dirt-filled and rock dust-covered path that took a rather sudden dip not too far in. They would have to see what was waiting for them below once they were closer. As was promised by Som, there was a chest of picks abandoned just east of the entrance, and Luca plucked two from the pile, handing one to Rydia. Rydia shoved it between her belt and her hip bone.

"What's up?" Luca asked. She made a point of not turning toward Rydia as to not blind her with the headlamp, and instead started to move forward into the passageway.

"Do you remember the last time we went to the Feymarch together a few years ago? It was you, me, Cid and the twins?"

"Oh, how could I forget?" Luca asked dreamily. "When you guys came to visit and Palom was with you, it became the best day of my year!" Rydia made a face that she was glad Luca couldn't see – it seemed that Luca was already over seeing Palom with another girl. Not that he had necessarily been doing anything wrong, but…Rydia had been pleased that for at least a little while, it seemed like Luca was starting to wise up about her poor taste in men.

"Well…I'm afraid I led Palom there under false pretenses. He wanted to train, but I had just wanted an excuse to return to the Feymarch. I was banished from there shortly after Ceodore was born."

"Whaaaaaaat!?"

Rydia blinked as Luca's form suddenly disappeared in front of her. Jogging to catch up, she saw that Luca had reached the dip in the tunnel she had spied when they first entered the mine, and had tumbled down a makeshift-slide into the depths below. Rydia kneeled down and tried to shine her headlamp to where Luca had fallen. She spotted a groaning bubblegum-pink heap about thirty feet below.

"Are you OK?" Rydia shouted. She saw Luca's hand shakily jut out from underneath her form and give a thumbs-up. Rydia nodded, climbing back to her feet. "I'm coming down!"

Glancing to her right, she saw that just a few steps away was a stairway carved in the stone floor of the mine. When she reached the bottom of the steps, she found Luca pulling herself up and cursing under her breath as she brushed black dust off her jacket.

"Watch where you're going next time!" Rydia chided gently. "They probably use that slide to send down heavy tools!" Luca arched an eyebrow as she rubbed her glove across her cheek, which just smeared the dust across her skin rather than clear it off.

"Sorry, I was paying too much attention to your _ahem_ , little confession. What the hell did you do to get banned from the Feymarch? And does that mean the entire time you were planning your latest trip you were…"

"…Still banished, yes," Rydia looked down. "The last time I went back there with you, Cid and the twins, Asura really let me have it, and practically tossed me out on my rear – that was why we didn't stay very long. Despite all that, I schemed to return again someday – and my resolve solidified with the appearance of the second moon. I'm sorry for dragging you into what became a horrible situation. King Leviathan and Queen Asura would not have laid blame on you, of course, but…I still asked you to aid me with something that went against their wishes, and that was disrespectful."

"Pshh, it's not _their_ wishes I care about," Luca shook her head. "I'm your friend – you need to go somewhere or get something done, I wanna be the person you can rely on. But seriously…what happened that made Asura kick you out?"

Rydia felt a smile begin to tug on the corners of her lips despite the ache in her heart. Walking side-by-side this time, the girls plunged deeper into the mine.

"Queen Asura thought it was best that as a human, I be among other humans again," Rydia began. "At first, everyone seemed happy with me living in the Feymarch after the war had ended. But I started to see the cracks in the veneer when I left the Feymarch to attend Edward's celebration in Damcyan. Before I departed, Asura told me she thought it would be best if perhaps I returned to the human world permanently. I think she could see how excited I was to be with the others – but I told her the Feymarch was every bit my home as the surface world, and she dropped the subject."

"And that's when your doppelganger paid us all a visit," Luca nodded. "I remember stealing the Falcon to try to find Cecil…Ooof, Father grounded me for weeks."

Rydia clutched her ice rod tighter in her hands – she had to physically brace herself to get through what had happened next.

"The morning after we had gathered in Baron to debrief about my impostor, I went back home to the Feymarch. And even though nothing bad had happened there while I was gone, Asura started acting weirder and weirder. She would start to go quiet when I entered a room, or worse yet, would ask that I would leave when she held important meetings with the other eidolons – something she had never made me do before. Leviathan kept being his usual kind self, but…we both know who rules the roost there."

Luca let out a sarcastic bark of laughter. "Yep…"

"So I made an extra-careful effort not to leave the Feymarch unless absolutely necessary – I wanted to try to prove to Asura that I did belong there, and that I didn't need the human world as badly as she thought I did. But then I had a dream about Ceodore's birth, and I decided to visit Cecil and Rosa to congratulate them. I wanted a fresh start – to reverse the deterioration of my friendships from the war. I realized that I had been through something both agonizing and extraordinary with Cecil, Rosa, Kain and Edge…we had become bound by fate…and I missed them."

"Rydia…" Luca frowned. "Were you that lonely that whole time in the Feymarch…?"

"I was…and I know now that Queen Asura understood that long before I could even recognize it within myself. When I came home from meeting Ceodore, it was the beginning of the end. It was only a few weeks after that she sent me away…I had nowhere else to go, so I threw myself into the restoration of Mist and settled there. As the years went on, I tried to keep up with the others, and be a good honorary Aunt for Ceodore…but I still didn't feel like I entirely belonged, which I suppose remains true even today." Rydia reached up, dragging a fist over her tearing eyes.

"What about Edge?" Luca blinked. "He helped you restore Mist, right? I thought he really cared for you – but you haven't seen him since the restoration completed. You _never_ talk about him."

Rydia nodded slowly – she knew that question was coming. "Edge and I…it was just never the right time. Whatever he thought we were fated to be…it just didn't work out. I took one route, and he took another – the wind blowing at both our backs."

Luca snorted. "What is _that_ supposed to mean? That's exactly when you take fate into your _own_ hands!"

Rydia gave a small smile through her tears. "Someday, you will understand. You'll have many things in your life that you feel are important to you, but when the time comes for you to make a decision about what is most important, your heart will become the compass that leads you down the right route…even if it doesn't feel good at the time."

Luca looked down, kicking away a large rock and sending it violently bouncing down the tunnel. "Maybe I know what you mean a little…" Rydia bit down on her lip.

 _Of course…Calca and Brina…_

"Clack!"

Rydia and Luca's heads both suddenly shot up, their headlamps washing over a large pile of crates that was scattered against what appeared to be a dead end – or at least where the miners had stopped digging for the day. The rock Luca had kicked had bounced into one of the crates, causing it to rupture with a crack shooting up one of its sides.

"Irk!" Luca blushed. "Sometimes I forget my own strength."

"Never mind that!" Rydia gasped excitedly. "This must be where the agartite is!" She ran over to the crates and pried one open with her pick, starting to sort through the piles of rock within. Luca followed her, tilting her head so that her light shined upon the pile Rydia was sorting through.

"Remember, we're looking for a rock that has a dusty red sheen underneath," Luca recalled.

"Purple…blue…green!?" Rydia sighed as she dove deeper into the crate. "There's every color here BUT red!"

"Keep looking," Luca encouraged. "We didn't come all this way just to leave empty-handed. I'll start digging through the mine myself if we have to!"

With the commotion Rydia was making shifting the rocks in the crate in front of her, neither of them noticed the soft grumbles emitting from beneath the other crates in the pile. It was only when of the top crates suddenly shifted that Rydia and Luca both looked up, mouths agape.

"Uh…what was that? Luca, did you kick another rock?"

"Obviously not, I've been right here the whole time…"

"MRRRRGRRRR!"

"Look out!" Rydia cried, diving forward and pushing Luca out of the way just before the top crate came crashing down upon them, the wood exploding into splintered pieces with rocks spilling everywhere. Luca and Rydia tumbled into the depressed wall of the mine, watching with wide eyes as more crates began to quiver and fall, the entire stack collapsing in on itself like a set of dominoes.

"An earthquake?!" Luca cried.

"I don't think so!" Rydia gasped. "Look!"

She turned her head, flashing her headlamp on a gleaming black eye that was staring at them between a set of crates. A pair of scaly, dusky blue reptile legs was exposed from the fallen crates, each attached to a massive spiked shell. The front left leg slammed at the crate in front of it, revealing that the eye belonged to a tortoise's head that was the size of a chocobo's entire trunk. Snapping its jaw of knife-like teeth, the tortoise tore into a nearby crate, instantly crushing it between its teeth and burrowing through the rocks within, taking care to seek out only certain ones and pulverizing them with its maw before swallowing. It slowly hauled itself up and over the crates beneath, some of them collapsing instantaneously under its weight. As it chewed through the crates, its skin and shell mutated from blue to red, and their headlamps revealed that steam was starting to pour from the openings in the shell where its limbs and head stuck out.

"That…t-thing is eating our agartite!" Luca stammered. "Unbelievable!"

The tortoise let out a gassy belch, a tongue of flame spilling from its mouth like a super-powered blowtorch. The discharge set some of the crates on fire, and Rydia and Luca watched with dismay as the rocks within the crates began to transform from the chemical reaction ignited by being doused with flame, turning into a dripping red mess that bled all over the cavern floor.

"No!" Rydia cried. "If we don't stop it, all the ore will be melted down before we're able to take it to the ship!" She stumbled to her feet, raising her ice rod.

 _This time, I'll save us, Luca!_

"Rydia, no!" Luca hissed. "It's going to try to light us on fire next!"

The tortoise swung its head toward Rydia, parting its jaw and readying to unleash another fiery explosion. Rydia closed her eyes, channeling all of her strength into sculpting a towering spire of ice in her mind's eye and willing it to flow through her fingertips into the rod held high over her head. She felt the metallic handle of the rod get so cold that it stung her flesh to keep holding on, but she wouldn't let herself relinquish to the pain.

Luca watched in awe as the ice crystal atop Rydia's rod began to glow bright blue, drifts of snowflakes dancing through the air and surrounding Rydia's form as the temperature of the cavern dropped several degrees in a matter of seconds. Rydia's eyes snapped open, and she brought the rod down just as the tortoise spewed out another torrent of flame.

"Blizzaga!"

The snowflakes that had been encircling Rydia flew in front of her body, erecting a shield that the flame came barreling into with a loud hiss of steam that resonated throughout the cavern. Underneath the tortoise, a lotus-shaped collective of ice crystals began to explode upward, impaling the beast's soft underbelly and tearing through the glowing red shell with a sickening crack. The tortoise reared back, swaying its head as it collapsed on top of the crates that had been lit on fire, instantly snuffing out the flames with its ice-encased body. A few moments later, there was an eruption of silvery dust, and the tortoise was no more.

Rydia inhaled deeply, a smile curling over her lips.

"You're insane!" Luca cried, running over to her and slapping her on the back. "But also, a genius, and _I love it_. You looked like some kind of ice goddess…kind of like…uh, Shiva! Yeah! Shiva would be proud if she could see you right now."

Rydia clutched the rod to her chest, smiling deeper. For the first time since returning to the Feymarch, she did not feel compelled to cry at the thought of her lost friends. "Thank you…Hopefully she _can_ see me, wherever she is."

Luca waltzed over to the crates they hadn't been able to reach that the tortoise had been rummaging in. Sure enough, she found several ores of agartite that were still in-tact, saved by Rydia's ice storm. Gently tapping them with her pick, she scraped away the raw black volcanic rock the ore was incased in, revealing a set of glimmering red crystals whose light reflected within her golden stare.

"I bet we can repair the Falcon with this! Let's go back and try it!"

"Right!" Rydia nodded, and Luca took off so fast that Rydia thought she had wings strapped to her boots. As she started to follow, she noticed that her pick had fallen from when she had pushed Luca out of the way of the falling crates, and bent down to pick it up. As her headlamp swept over the cavern floor, she thought she saw a flash of silver near the rear of the crates, where the monster had emerged. Sticking the pick back into her belt, Rydia crawled over, scooping up the silver bits in her hand. They consisted of a nut, a bolt, and a tightly-wound spring.

 _Looks like that tortoise was hoarding this trash…_ Rydia dropped the silver into the small pouch that hung from her belt. There was no point in leaving it for a miner to accidentally step on.

Back on the Falcon, Rydia lit various lanterns with a Fire spell so that they had light to work by, including the furnace in the broiler room that they were going to use as a makeshift refinery for the ore. Luca dragged out her toolbox, rubbing her hands excitedly.

"All right then! Time to get to work!"

"Let me help, too," Rydia added. "Remember, I'm the assistant now!"

After two straight hours of work, during which Rydia took a short break to run into Agart to get them dinner and to return Som's equipment, Luca surfaced from another trip into the boiler room below deck, a scowl deeply etched into her features. "This doesn't look good..."

"What is it?" Rydia stood up from where she had been resting on a chest, shoving the last of her food into her mouth and swallowing hurriedly.

Luca looked down. "The damage is a lot worse than I thought. I can't fix it with what I have at hand...even with the agartite. I need another alloy to replace one of the pistons in the engine."

Rydia put her hands on her hips. "You're kidding me! If we can't get the Falcon back in shape, we'll be stuck here."

Luca snorted angrily. "I know, okay!?" Rydia looked down, shaking her head.

"Sorry, I didn't mean…"

Luca held up her palm. "No…I'm sorry." She let out a tired sigh, and Rydia watched as she glanced over at the rear corner of the deck where they had set Calca and Brina's remains to rest to keep them out of the way.

Rydia blinked. "Wait...you aren't thinking about salvaging the parts from Calca and Brina's bodies, are you?"

Luca pushed her fingers through her sweat-drenched hair. "I don't have any other choice. That's the only way for me to get the Falcon off the ground. We…we have to get to Baron somehow, right? I promised you…"

Rydia stomped her foot, making Luca jump in surprise. "Stop! You can't do that! Don't even think about it!"

"But..."

"You grew up with these guys! You've known them since childhood!"

Luca looked away. "I know that…but sometimes these kinds of choices have to be made, right? You said so yourself."

Rydia took a deep breath, desperately trying to think of something – anything – that could help them. Maybe Luca could melt down the rod Kokkol had made before he passed? It was a beautiful weapon, but…she was tired of being the reason why the people around her had to make sacrifices. As she reached down at her hip to take hold of the rod, her hand brushed over her pouch, and she remembered the trash she had found in the mine. Pulling out the bolt, nut, and spring, Rydia presented them to Luca. "…Can't you use these?"

Luca blinked, plucking the pieces from Rydia's hand and investigating them in the flickering light of the lanterns. "Rydia…where did you find this mythril?"

"Mythril?" Rydia shook her head. "I thought it was just scrap metal."

Luca grinned. "This is perfect! Not just for the Falcon, but I can use these to fix Calca and Brina too! I don't need to build a new piston if I can secure the damaged one with a powerful alloy like this…and I can melt down the spring to attach Calca and Brina's bodies to their heads after I reprogram them."

Rydia clapped her hands together. "Really?"

Luca nodded, throwing her arms around her. "Yes! Thank you, Rydia! Are you up for a few more hours of work?"

Rydia laughed. "How could I possibly sleep after all this?"

* * *

"The Falcon is back, baby!" Luca raised her hands in the air, waving them excitedly as she did a traditional dwarven dance that Rydia had only ever seen performed by drunken dwarves in Pub HOWDY buried deep in the basement of Giott's castle.

"And Calca and Brina, too!" Rydia added, giggling as the revived dolls ran up to join Luca, falling in-step with her perfectly and finishing the set with a set of dramatic pirouettes. Luca had completed their programming, and Rydia had done her best to sew the holes in their clothes from where the lightning had struck them. And finally, as Luca was putting the finishing touches on the Falcon, Rydia had found a hairbrush and gently brushed through Brina's melted hair, pulling what was left of it into an elegant side-swept plait that hid the burned parts of her head and allowed her still-formed sausage curls to spiral down her shoulder.

"You look beautiful, Brina!" Luca smiled, and Brina reached up, patting her braid proudly.

"I guess playing with dolls is kind of fun," Rydia giggled. "Maybe I wouldn't mind if I got _one_ for my birthday – it's got to have hair, though. That's definitely the best part!"

As they began to debate whether they should get some much-needed shuteye in the hull of the ship or spring for beds at the Agart Inn, a tremor ran underneath the Falcon, causing the ship to rock back and forth as if they were on a rough sea. Calca and Brina clung onto each other, and Rydia steadied herself with the railing to look at their surroundings. Dawn's light was just beginning to emerge from the eastern horizon, turning the sands of the beach they had been stranded on a pale pink. Luca stepped up next to her, frowning.

"OK, this has got to be an earthquake, right? I don't see any giant tortoises around this time."

Rydia shook her head. "This…it doesn't seem natural – I'm getting a very odd feeling. Why is the ground shaking, but the ocean is totally still?"

Another violent tremble rocked the ship as if to answer her, and in the far distance, emerging from the small forest of trees that flanked Agart Village, was a massive figure with bronzed, oiled skin and violet hair that fell over his shoulders, matching the loincloth tied around his waist. With each step he took forward, the ground beneath his feet shuddered and buckled – and he was heading straight for Agart.

"Titan!?" Rydia gasped. "Oh my god…it's really him!" She turned to Luca, who was staring at the colossus of a man confusedly. "He's an eidolon!"

Titan lifted his head, looking around for a moment before turning away and continuing his journey.

Rydia shook her head, preparing to leap from the ship. "WAIT! It's me! Rydia!"

"Girl, calm down!" Luca cried, grabbing Rydia by the shoulders and facing her toward the ramp, which Calca and Brina had already lowered for them. "You're not going to do anyone any good if you break your neck."

"R-Right!" Rydia gasped. "Let's hurry…Agart is in mortal danger! We can't let Titan make his way in!"

Rydia and Luca broke into a desperate run, sand spraying from underneath their feet as they crossed the beach to cut Titan off at the entrance to Agart. Despite not having slept for close to twenty-four hours now, the adrenaline pumping through Rydia's body made her feel like she could do anything – even lift Titan up and toss him in the ocean, if need-be. Skidding to a stop in front of the gigas, Rydia held out her hands, trying to get his attention. "Please! You've got to wake up!"

Titan stared down at her wordlessly, with no sign of recognizance. His eyes were dull black rocks that were shriveled in his head, with nary a sign of life. Rydia shook her head, clenching her fists. "No..."

Luca stumbled up to Rydia, gasping for air. "What's going on? He doesn't know who you are?"

Rydia bit down on her lip. "He's under some kind of spell...there's no light in his eyes!"

Luca looked away. "Oh, no..." She glanced up at the village gates, wondering if their next best plan would be for her to run through the streets, screaming for people to evacuate before it was too late. But…where would they all go? They couldn't all fit in the Falcon…

"Titan! Please!" Rydia fell to her knees before him, clasping her hands together. "Please, remember me! When Mommy died…you saved my life…saved all of Mist! I was so happy when I finally got to meet you again in the Feymarch, and enter into a true covenant! You've been with me since I was a little girl – surely, you know who I am?"

Titan grasped the sides of his head, letting out a scream so powerful that all of the birds that had been nesting in the forest behind him screeched and erupted into flight, fleeing the island as fast as their wings would take them. Rydia grimaced and covered her ears, feeling like her eardrums were about to burst. A single tear slid down her cheek as she looked up to see the shadow of Titan's foot falling over her – she was paralyzed from his scream and couldn't bring herself to flee. Closing her eyes, she kept her hands clasped in prayer, the ringing in her ears drowning out the sound of Luca's screams from behind her.

The wet, stomach-turning sound of steel slicing through flesh erupted in the air, and Rydia cringed, waiting for her bones to be ground to dust. But when nothing happened, she slowly opened one eye, and then another. Titan was gone, and standing in his place was a towering man, well over six feet tall and someone who could have passed for a gigas himself. Dressed in only a flowing black cloak draped over his broad shoulders and a matching kilt that fell just above his knees, the rest of the man's tanned, sculpted form was unabashedly on full display, save for a set of crimson prayer beads adorning each of his ankles and his wrists. Rydia's eyes trailed down to his curved, black steel blade clutched in his grip, which was dripping with blood – and she knew right away that it was Titan's.

Luca's jaw was on the ground. The man in black had appeared from above as if he were an angel descending the heavens, plunging his blade into Titan's back and causing the eidolon to disappear in a burst of sparkling green light just as his foot was about to crush Rydia's head.

Rydia stood up shakily, regaining control of her body as the ringing in her ears receded. "Who...are you?"

The man turned away from her, gazing to the west. Silently, he pointed a finger toward the horizon.

"We need to go. The tower awaits."

Rydia and Luca both turned toward where he was pointing, and let out simultaneous gasps.

"The Tower of Babil!" Rydia whispered. In the clear dawn of the morning, they could see the deep, pulsing red of the tower lights, even though it was stationed all the way in Eblan, a continent that was an entire ocean away. Rydia had not seen the tower glow this fiercely since fifteen years ago, when her doppelganger had been awaiting her inside…

…And once more prior to that, when the path to the moon and opened during the war, setting the stage for the blue planet's decimation by Zemus…

The man in black continued staring toward the direction of the Tower of Babil, crossing his arms over his chest. A crisp morning sea breeze washed over the three of them – Rydia and Luca both shivered, but the man, hardly dressed in half as many clothes as either of them, didn't even flinch. His velvety, distant voice was barely discernible over the wind.

"The horrors of the past come to visit us again."

Rydia and Luca turned away from the tower, the same dumbstruck look on their faces. Rydia dared to get a closer look at her savior while he was distracted by the tower's lights. Reflecting the early-morning moonlight that still bathed the sky, the man's eyes were pools of deep violet, but were stained with such torment and sorrow that Rydia had to force herself to look away after only a few seconds – looking at them felt the same as if she had caught him in a deeply private, vulnerable moment. And though she had never seen such eyes before – she would have remembered such a beautiful, almost majestic purple hue – there was something about them that was still so achingly familiar – so much so that she felt her heart skip a beat when she stole one last look. Whether her heart was reacting in fear or wonderment…she could not discern.

Rydia shivered again, running her hands up and down her arms. "Who are you... _really_?"

The man in black turned to face her, his lips parted as if to speak. Another gust of wind blew through, tossing his dark silver hair over his face and obscuring his grievous stare. Rydia felt as if a chasm was going to open up beneath her at any second and swallow her into ceaseless darkness – and her heart began to palpitate fiercely.

 _Fear…it was definitely fear._


	9. Act Nine: Palom's Tale

Act Nine: Palom's Tale | The Tumultuous Heart

 _Overworld, Location Unknown_

"Try to get some sleep, my dear. I don't think you've closed your eyes for nearly seventy-two hours now."

"I cannot…"

There came a loud sigh. "If someone held a sword to my throat, I still don't think I could tell them who was more stubborn – you or your god-forsaken husband. I swear, it's going to be one of you that does me in someday. And what are you going to tell Amelia and Mid when that happens?"

"…"

"That was a joke."

Rosa shifted onto her back, gazing out at the spray of stars that was twinkling high above. A few times, she had thought she saw shooting stars, but it could have been the exhaustion that had settled into bones that was making her delusional. It had not been an exaggeration that she had not slept in the time since they had left Baron – and when dawn broke, they would begin their fourth day on the run. Not only did she think she was seeing things, but she could swear she heard what sounded like fireworks coming from Baron's direction earlier – which she _knew_ had to have been impossible, given the circumstances.

"I'm sorry, Cid…" Rosa sat up, massaging her temples with her fingertips before stumbling to her feet. "I think I'm going to take a quick bath…that might relax me enough to finally fall asleep, and my tossing and turning won't keep you awake."

"What!?" Cid bolted upright. "At this time of night? The water is going to be freezing, and you'll catch your death. This really can't wait until morning?"

"Water always helps me think," Rosa said, giving him a cutting glance. "Besides, you said the Enterprise would be fixed right away in the morning, right? I don't want to delay our departure."

Cid sighed, stroking his bushy white beard, which had only grown wilder in the time they were away. "It doesn't matter what you say – I know you're just going to do what you want. But yes, I'll have her right as rain first thing tomorrow. Of all the bad luck to have engine problems now…but at least it's something fixable. I have plenty of agartite on hand."

"I know you'll have us up and running in no time," Rosa smiled, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. Cid blushed and waved her away.

"Get out of here…save that for Cecil when you see him again. Just don't do anything too wild in front of Ceodore…you'll scar the kid for life."

"Heh," Rosa shook her head, rising to her feet and walking over to the control deck of the Enterprise. She pressed the release for the ramp, and silently drifted away from the ship, her footsteps as weightless as a ghost's. Cid watched as she crossed the moonlit sands that led to the nameless cove he had stashed them away in for the night, keeping his eyes on her form until she was swallowed by the darkness. Although Cid was still a world-class pilot, flying in the dark of night had gotten more difficult with his age, and while he had no problem putting himself in danger, he didn't want to risk Rosa's life, especially being in the sort of situation they presently found themselves in. As a result, he instituted a hard no-flying at night rule, and they would make their progress away from Baron in bite-sized increments during the day.

Cid was still not sure about where their ultimate destination should be – he and Rosa had discussed a few options, but always came to a stalemate. Rosa desperately wanted to go back home to Baron in hopes that Ceodore had returned with Biggs and Wedge, but things had looked really bad when they left – Cid wasn't sure that now was the right time to return, and the look in Cecil's eyes when they had departed had left no room for interpretation: _Keep Rosa as far away as possible._

Worse yet, he had heard some disturbing snippets of commentary on the radio he had decided to leave on, in case any of the Red Wings tried to transmit a communication or SOS. Everything he had heard was layered in obnoxious static, but he had gleaned enough that had convinced him that a return to Baron was perhaps too hasty – the word "crystal" had come up far too often for him to feel comfortable, and the voices he heard weren't any that he recognized – there was no Biggs, Wedge or even Ceodore. At one point, he could even swear he had heard a woman.

Cid had made an effort to keep Rosa away from the transmissions – although with the half-functioning state she had been in for the past few days, he doubted she even realized they had a radio on board. He felt a little guilty about keeping secrets from her, but he was terrified at what she might do if she suspected Cecil or Ceodore were in any more danger – her impulsive tendencies had gotten her almost killed on more than one occasion during the war, and nothing in regard to that had changed in the seventeen years since.

 _We'll need to stop somewhere, soon,_ Cid thought as he settled back down in his sleeping bag and closed his eyes. _We need news of Baron – then we can figure out how to proceed. We've no idea of what the purpose of the attack on the castle was…or who or what the aggressor was after…All I can do is trust Cecil._

When the Enterprise was out of Rosa's sight, she kicked off one of her sandals and dipped her toe into the seawater, shivering involuntarily.

 _Yikes…Cid was right. That is cold._

But the little shock that had riveted up her spine was the most awake she had felt in days, and the rampant humidity of the summer heat had made her feel like she was a walking rag of sweat and dirt. It was too stifling to sleep in the ship at night, and Cid was worried if anyone came upon them that they might be trapped, so they slept semi-hidden away on the deck (or at least Cid slept, while Rosa stared into nothingness). Reluctantly, Rosa kicked off her other sandal, and stepped back into the sea, lifting her gown above her ankles. The chill of the water was biting and made her toes go numb, but she forced herself to stay still until she had gotten used to it. Unraveling her scarf, she dropped it on the beach and began the meticulous process of removing her jewelry, belt and hair ornaments, depositing them onto the scarf and only leaving on her rose gold wedding band. Finally, she lifted her gown up and over her head, tossing it away and wrapping her arms around herself as she began to slowly descend into the water, tears stinging her eyes as her teeth chattered.

Her hair, released from the now-ratty bun she had had it wrapped in the morning she thought Ceodore was going to come home, snaked behind her in the gentle lapping waves of the cove, transformed from spun gold into radiant silver by way of the twin moons' light. After a few agonizing minutes, she held her breath and dipped her head back, soaking the rest of her hair as a muted scream festered in her lungs.

Flicking her gaze up toward the moons, she pressed her blue-tinged lips together, letting the tears now flow freely down her cheeks. Even those had turned cold, little ice crystals pricking her skin.

"Cecil…" Rosa mumbled, tucking her chin into her chest as she hugged herself tighter in an attempt to shield the swell of her breasts from the freezing water. "Why did you send me away? You can't be dead… _right_?" She looked down at her left hand digging into the flesh of her right arm, and saw a flash of the pink diamond in her ring emanate in the moonlight. "…But if you're still alive…why can't I feel your presence in my heart anymore?"

The moons shed their light silently above her, providing no acknowledgment of her queries.

"We were _both_ supposed to be here for Ceodore…Wasn't that the dream we vowed to cherish above all else…so that our son could have everything you and I did not?"

The moment Ceodore's name fell from her lips, Rosa felt her chest constrict painfully, and she choked out a sob.

 _My son…please be safe, wherever you are. I wish I could be by your side if only to tell you this: If you are scared and lost, you need only remember who you are, and the path of light will reveal itself to you. That is your birthright!_

The sound of a boot crunching through sand caused Rosa to freeze mid-prayer, her eyes tearing away from the moons as she felt another tear roll down her cheek and fall into the sea with a delicate "plink".

 _If it were Cid, he would call out,_ Rosa thought worriedly. She realized that she didn't even know where they had landed for the night – if she had to run, she had no idea if she should go toward the airship, or lead whoever was there with her away from Cid.

As she debated the merits of plunging herself under the sea to risk hypothermia or death in exchange for a hiding place, she heard a young man's voice call out in shock.

"Hey! What are you doing out here?!"

Rosa pressed her lips together, keeping her back to whoever was yelling. It wasn't a voice she recognized…

"Miss?!"

 _Go away!_ Rosa screamed inwardly.

"Guards – bring that woman to shore! She could be hurt!"

 _Soldiers!? No!_

Rosa whirled around, her eyes wide with panic as she saw not one, but three men on the beach, two of which were hurriedly unlacing their boots and preparing to dive into the cove. It was too dark to see the colors of their uniforms, and their helmets obscured their faces – she had absolutely no idea who was coming after her, nor what nation they hailed from. As Cid had gently reminded her several times in her attempts to convince him to turn around and go back to Baron, they had no idea who was behind the swarm of monsters that had overtaken their kingdom – nor what nation they hailed from. In theory, anyone on the planet could now be their enemy.

And who was she kidding? The sea had sapped her of any energy she might have had left, the ice water numbing her muscles and dulling her senses. Even if she were to run, she'd never be able to swipe her clothes with enough time to get a decent lead. She'd probably just fall on her face on the beach and drown in the sand.

"S-Stop!" Rosa shrieked, reaching out with one hand while keeping the other draped over her chest. "I-I'll come back!"

The soldier that was standing guard tilted his head, removing his hand from where he had hesitatingly laid it over the handle of his blade.

"Um…forgive my boldness, but are you Queen Rosa of Baron?"

Rosa bit down on her lip, so shocked that she had been recognized in her disheveled state that she nearly dropped the arm that had been protecting what little shred she had left of her modesty.

"…Who's asking?"

* * *

 _The Overworld, Northern Seas_

 _The day of the moon's return_

"They just ain't biting, Captain."

"Stop your whining!"

The sailor sighed, tossing his rod away with a clatter and turning to the man before him with his hands crossed over his chest. He could tell by the look on the weather-worn, sunburned man's face that he was pushing his luck by offering any further commentary, but he was exhausted, hungry, and could feel the beginnings of a summer cold tickling the back of his throat. "Look, Captain, how much longer do we have to keep putting up with that brat?"

An aloof cackle emanated from a few feet behind them, causing both men to jump. "…Which brat would that be?"

A long-haired, glowering young man had emerged from the ship's hold, his cheeks tinged red and his normally voluminous brown eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. The captain took notice of the man's clenched fists hanging down at his sides, which he could swear were glowing with some kind of magical aura. Although the captain couldn't be sure if that was a normal behavior for mages or not – he spent little time with anyone in the magic community outside of the occasional client he would charter – based on the reputation of _this_ particular client, he decided to try to steer the conversation away from potential catastrophe.

The captain shook his head, giving a quick bow. "I-I apologize for my crew's insolence, Lord Palom!"

Palom snorted, tossing his brown braided ponytail over his shoulder and tapping his foot with impatience. He was a slip of a boy with a slender build, the skinniness of his legs only further emphasized by the green and white vertically striped leggings of his romper. A form-fitting navy overcoat enveloped his torso and chest, flaring out at the hips and hanging down to his knees, with a mythril-embossed shoulder plate strapped over his right arm and a matching headband affixed to his forehead with a yellow sapphire gleaming within. A childhood filled with days worshipping the sun had left a faded spray of freckles across his nose and cheeks, the only mote of color on what had otherwise become a more washed-out complexion over the past few years from long stretches of time spent hunched over tomes in a classroom.

Despite his diminutive form, his words spewed forth as if from the mouth of a giant. ""Lord?" You know, you're at least several decades older than me. Did you forget?"

The captain couldn't help but stutter as he reached up, nervously scratching his bulbous, peeling nose that was suffering from an intense case of sun poisoning. Had you not known of his condition, it would have looked as if he were about to burst into tears based on the ruddiness of his complexion. "In...in that case, what would you like me to call you?"

Palom shrugged, looking away. "Figure it out for yourself, why don't you? You're a grown man, right?"

The captain blinked. What had this little terror's bloomers in a twist _this time_? "Er...yes..."

Palom smirked, reaching up to adjust the green and white scarf he had originally gone below deck to retrieve in order to combat the blustering northern winds. "So quit bowing and scraping. You're too old for that act."

"H-how dare you speak to the captain like that!" the sailor snapped. But Palom paid him no mind – he was gazing out toward the sea, his lips pursed as if he had just smelled something unpleasant.

"The fish..."

The sailor blinked. "Unh!?"

Palom's eyes fell on the abandoned fishing rod, lying in a tangled heap on the deck. "Did you catch anything?"

The sailor felt as if ice water had been poured down his back. "I...uh... No. Not yet. We..."

Palom's eyebrow twitched as he bent down picking up the rod with the same distaste that one would pick up a soiled nappy. "Are you guys even trying? Is it really that hard?"

The captain turned away from Palom, his eyes worriedly sweeping over the sea before them. "There's good fishing around here. I've never seen a dry spell such as this."

"Excuses, excuses. Just get me something fresh, okay? Who knows how much longer I'll be stuck here with you imbeciles?" Palom tossed the rod aside, and walked away. The sailor and the captain looked at each other, crestfallen. That had been one of the more brutal verbal assaults they had been forced to deal with yet, and sadly, Palom had been right about the mystery of the length of time they had left together.

Palom wandered to the front of the ship, pulling his coat tighter around him as he glared into the infinite azure waves bobbing in the outstretch of horizon. After a few minutes of the scenery not changing a single bit, he closed his eyes and muttered under his breath.

"Ugh...I _knew_ I shouldn't have taken this job."

* * *

 _"You called for me, Elder?"_

Porom's cheerful voice rang into the prayer dais like tinkling crystal at a wedding banquet. The Elder was waiting at the center of the Tower of Prayer's uppermost spire, flanked by Anja and Meghan, apprentice black and white mages, respectively, who had been conducting their shift of prayer as part of their spiritual training. The Elder glanced over Porom's shoulder, as he so often had to do, and his face fell into a familiar frown. This had become so routine that Porom anticipated what the Elder was going to say before he could even form the words.

"Where is Palom?"

She sighed. "I apologize, Elder. I'll go fetch him immediately..." She was about to turn and go right back through the door from whence she had come, when Palom stomped in, not-so-gently shoving her aside.

"I'm right here."

"Palom! Where have you been?" Porom hissed as she stumbled from being pushed.

"What? Am I supposed to report every…"

"…Little detail of my life to you?" Porom interrupted, mimicking his whiny tone as she spat out his favorite default insult. He glared at her and she returned the favor before whirling around and facing the Elder once more.

"So what did you need, Elder?" Palom waved to Anja and Meghan, who both shot him dirty looks before closing their eyes and returning to their prayers. "It's been a while since you've called us up here like this…"

The Elder slowly ran his finger over the spiral at the top of his staff, looking at the twins as he spoke. "I have received a request from a certain foreign nation."

"A request?" Porom asked, her voice raising slightly. Palom had not been incorrect – it had been a while since the Elder had called them both to the upper spire for a chat. Porom had noticed that whenever discussions were held there, they had tended to be about sensitive missions that the Elder had not wanted the other residents and students of the Tower of Prayer to hear and gossip about – could that mean something big was happening?

"Another prayer job from some country trying to palm its problems off on others, no doubt," Palom snorted, shaking his head. Porom clenched her fist, turning to glare at him. The audacity of her brother sometimes…

"Palom!"

He met her glare with his trademark smirk, which looked as if it were formed by making a slash in his face with a dagger where his mouth was. "I'll let you handle this one, Porom." He looked up at the Elder, ignoring the holy hell Porom was silently cursing him with by way of her eyes. "By the way, Elder, have you made your decision yet?"

"About the sage training you brought up?" the Elder asked nonchalantly. Porom pressed her lips together.

 _Uh-oh. Is Palom sure he wants an audience for this conversation?_

"That's the one," Palom tried to smile, which looked as if it took as much effort as it took a sickly man to lift a fifty-pound barrel.

The Elder shook his head. "You are still not ready yet, Palom."

Palom's face fell, and for a brief moment, Porom thought she saw tears spring to her brother's eyes. But perhaps it was a trick of the light – when she blinked, the tears had been replaced by a stifling rage. His voice was cool and controlled, despite the shaking in his fingers. "Still? When will you actually think I'm ready, Elder?"

"Palom…!" Porom whispered, and he glanced over at her, his shoulders slumping.

"All right, all right..." He looked down, lightly kicking the toe of his boot into some invisible dust. "So, what's this request about?"

The Elder continued, as if they had never deviated from the briefing in the first place. "This nation wishes us to send a mage in order to train their Epopts."

Porom stepped forward, her hand pressed to her chest. Perhaps it was best that Palom had "volunteered" her for this project, after all – only one nation had Epopts, and Porom was quite familiar with how they operated. In fact, she had been part of several Epopt training sessions already and had gotten very good feedback from those she had assisted. It would be a refreshing change of pace to get away from Palom for a while – they had both been home for a much longer stretch of time than had become their new usual. "I would be happy to handle this request, Elder."

The Elder turned to Porom, nodding. "Thank you, but I have decided to send Palom this time."

The twins blanched, their mouths agape as they both stared at the Elder.

"What!?" Porom cried.

"Isn't it normally Porom's job to train Epopts, Elder?" Palom protested.

"It will be your task this time, Palom," the Elder said matter-of-factly. Porom bit down on her lip, trying not to cry. What was going on?! Had the Troians specifically asked for the trainer to _not_ be her? What could she have possibly done to offend them?

But Palom wasn't ready to give up quite yet. As much as he wanted to get out of the request, seeing the look of shock on his sister's face shook him in a way that he hadn't felt in quite a while – he felt weirdly protective of her in that moment. "But what use would it be to send me? I don't know a thing about white magic – and that's what the Epopts train in, right?"

The Elder turned away, which signaled the end of the discussion. "What use you would be depends entirely on you, Palom."

* * *

Palom opened his eyes. He found himself slumped against a stack of crates, where he remembered sitting down when the turbulent winds had gotten to be too much for him. He rubbed his eyes, grimacing at the feeling of his ice-cold knuckles digging into his eyelids.

 _Guess it's nighttime already._

He glanced up at the darkened sky, an involuntary shudder running through his body. At first, when he had seen the pale, silvery second moon high in the morning sky upon waking up, he thought his eyes had been playing tricks on him. There had been nothing new to look at nearly the entire time he had been on board, after all – he figured he would crack up from boredom sooner rather than later, at the rate they were _crawling_ across the ocean toward their destination. But when one of the sailors had pointed out the new scenery over breakfast and the entire ship had gone silent, he knew it was for real – and it felt like he had swallowed a pill made out of lead.

 _And just look at that moon... It's getting closer and closer..._

* * *

After Palom had been dismissed, grumbling the entire way down the tower stairs about his newly-obtained mission, Porom remained behind, staring out of the northern-most window in the spire. The apprentice mages pretended to have heard none of the preceding conversation, their eyes screwed shut in prayer. The Elder watched Porom silently, and finally, she spoke to the window in front of her, her voice calm and clear, despite being laced with disappointment. In the reflection of the glass, the Elder could see the tears lining her eyes.

"Elder, why did you send Palom instead of me?"

He knew, of course, that question was coming – he had raised Porom for the near entirety of her twenty-two years on this planet, after all. He touched his staff to the floor gently, making his way over to her with slow, deliberate steps. "Hmmm...there are some things that only he is capable of, I believe. And what's more... _Ugh_!"

He gasped for breath, clutching his chest with both hands as he fell to his knees, the staff falling to the floor with a jarring crash. Anja and Meghan's eyes flew open as Porom rushed to the Elder's side, pulling him into her arms as her eyes worriedly scanned his transparent face and his constricted pupils, now no wider than a pinprick.

"Elder!" she cried, but he merely shook his head and closed his eyes, taking one drawn-out, rattling breath as his head drooped onto her shoulder, his arms slackening underneath her own.

"...I am fine."

* * *

Palom had forced himself to go to bed in the hold of the ship, after bitterly noting to himself that none of the sailors or the captain of the ship had tried to rouse him after he initially passed out on the deck. Although the idea of sleeping under the stars had been tempting, now that the twin moon was looming above, shedding its ghostly-pale light on every conceivable surface, Palom realized he felt safer inside – although not by much. Even with as much power as he had, he felt vulnerable in the open sea – there would only be so much he could do if disaster did decide to strike.

His sleep had been dreamless, but he was awoken by the whispers of the crew that he shared the berth with – only the captain had his own quarters. Keeping his eyes closed as they spoke, he could hear the scraping of their boots on the floor as they got dressed for the day.

"Did you hear the report that came through yesterday on the radio? I thought that thing was on its last legs, but then it bleated something out while Captain was in his quarters. If he hadn't been in there, we might have missed it."

"Yep, I heard. Apparently, a large city fell under monster attack. Couldn't make out the name they were saying, but…Captain said it sounded like the report was coming from Troia."

"If we're close enough to finally start picking up transmissions from them, then we've surely not got much longer to go…He tried to send an outgoing message, but it must not have gone through…"

 _A monster attack?!_ Palom inwardly grimaced. _There are only so many places in this world that could be described as a "large city"...Mysidia isn't one of them, so Porom and the Elder are probably safe. But I wonder if this has anything to do with the return of the second moon? What kind of monsters could possibly pose a threat nowadays with people like Cecil, Yang and Edge running things?_

After the sailors left, Palom opened his eyes and threw off his scratchy wool blankets, making a face as he reached up to itch his neck. His contemplative state was quickly replaced by agitation.

 _Ugh…I can't stand this much longer!_

Stomping up to the deck, Palom nearly ran into the sailor that had attempted to berate him yesterday. He was mopping the deck half-heartedly, and Palom could see a large, empty net dripping water in a pile of rope and mesh behind him – meaning that another fishing attempt must have been unsuccessful.

"Good morning," the sailor said through clenched teeth in an attempt to be pleasant, despite wanting to take the mop and crack it over Palom's head. "Did you sleep well?"

Palom tsked and decided to ignore the question altogether. He didn't care much for small talk in the morning – or ever. He thought about the conversation he had overheard in the berth about picking up a radio transmission from Troia. "...Are we there yet?"

The sailor shook his head, and couldn't help but look away, deciding that his splinter-producing, tattered mop was much less painful to focus on. "I-I'm afraid not...Why don't you take a walk around the deck? Though I'm sure you're sick of it by now..."

Palom rolled his eyes and walked away, spying another sailor that was sitting at a crate and breaking into some bread and fruit preserves. Palom knew the bread had to have been well-past stale at this point, but he was starving from missing dinner last night, and he knew there wasn't going to be anything else on board except maybe some dried meat and nuts, which he was also sick of. This sailor, who had yet to be a victim of one of Palom's temper tantrums, gestured for him to come over by patting the crate next to him. Palom sat down silently as the sailor broke off a chunk of the bread, handing it to Palom and sliding the jar of preserves over. As Palom reluctantly slathered the bread with the chunky, blood-colored fruit to soften it up, the sailor swallowed what was in his mouth and gazed up into the gold and pink morning sky, where the twin moons were waiting, refusing to sleep even with the sun's imminent return.

"Everyone is all a tizzy about the new moon, but…I saw a falling star in the northern skies, too. Doesn't seem like anyone caught it but me. It was just a flash of light, and then it was gone."

"A falling star?" Palom blinked, biting into the bread and trying not to gag. As expected, it was disgusting – like chewing on gravel. He wondered if he had been asleep when this had happened.

"I had a bad feeling about it," the sailor sighed. "It wasn't like the kind of star you made a wish on. I know it sounds crazy, but…I could almost sense the malice that was propelling it forward. I wonder if it ended up landing anywhere or if it just burned out…?"

Palom finished his meal, and didn't bother thanking the sailor for the bread when he stood up to move on. He had been mulling over the possible connection of the falling star with the monster attack when he had spotted the captain climbing down from the crow's nest. Palom sauntered over to him, roughly jabbing his finger into the captain's fleshy shoulder from behind and making him jump from both the pain of his ever-present sunburn being disturbed and the surprise of being snuck up on.

"Captain..." Palom began, and the man whirled around, his face twisting in abhorrence when he saw who it was.

"Yes?"

Palom placed his hands on his hips, his brows knitted. "I seem to remember you convincing me that this trip would take no more than a week."

The captain's eyes flitted back up to the crow's nest. Palom wondered if he was thinking he should have just stayed up there, or if he was contemplating throwing himself from it. Finally, he looked back at Palom, giving a small shrug. "Yes…"

Palom could feel his back teeth starting to grind. "And how long has it been since we departed from Mysidia?"

The captain tilted his head. Where exactly was the boy going with all this? "About...a month now, I suppose."

Palom laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "I guess there's nothing much I can say, given that our compass is broken, as well."

The captain frowned. "That it is, sir…" He recalled the unfortunate day they had made that discovery – they had just weathered a brutal storm, one that been powerful enough to blow them off course by what they had thought was a few days. But when one of the sailors had gone to retrieve the compass, it was discovered to be destroyed – one of the sails of the ship had crashed down during the storm and had crushed it, along with their radio and some other supplies. The sail itself had been enough of a loss to slow them down, but even after the crew had worked diligently to repair it over the days following the storm, the loss of the compass meant that they had no idea of what direction they were bobbing along in, and had to rely on the position of the stars at night, when they could be properly seen. They had had very few clear nights on their journey, and the days had soon stretched into weeks.

"But you're all supposed to be sailors, aren't you?" Palom cried, and the captain, entirely beaten down at this point, merely nodded.

"More or less..."

"Then shouldn't you be able to do something about this? I mean, come on!"

The captain sighed, throwing his hands in the air. "I-I'm sorry about this, my lord! What more do you possibly want me to do at this point?!"

" _Apologize_ for wasting my time, for starters!" Palom glared. The captain whirled around, grumbling, and began to approach the wheel. Palom huffed, pushing his stubborn bangs out of his eyes and wondering how long he should wait before releasing another verbal tirade. He knew that venting his frustrations wouldn't actually solve anything – but his logical side went out the window whenever he encountered a situation for which is magic expertise could not find him way out of. Those situations were few and far between – so when they happened, they hit him like a ton of bricks. The captain suddenly gasped, raising his hand. "Wait! Up ahead! Look!"

Palom approached the wheel, narrowing his eyes. "I'm not falling for that again, Captain. Last time you told me to look at something, it ended up being a piece of garbage floating in the ocean."

"No, no!" the captain shook his head and stepped aside from where a scope was installed next to the wheel, gesturing for Palom to come over. "There it is! The cape of Troia!"

Palom raised an eyebrow and approached the scope, bending down slightly to take a look. Sure enough, in the distance, he could see a stretch of green – and a tall, white tower rising from beyond.

 _What's that…?_ Palom blinked, pulling back. He wasn't exactly an expert in world geography, but he hadn't remembered any structure like that ever being in Troia – he had thought that the Troian continent had mostly been covered in forest with the castle and village being the only populated areas.

After dealing with the Tower of Babil nearly fifteen years prior when he and his sister had joined Cecil in the pursuit of the mysterious doppelgänger that had taken on Rydia of Mist's form, Palom had gotten enough of a taste for creepy towers to last him the rest of his days – but he had a feeling that somehow, he would be seeing that tower again – he felt drawn to it, like something or someone was inside, waiting for him.

It was less than an hour later that they had finally reached the shore, and the crew worked as swiftly as possible to prepare the ship so that Palom could make his way ashore. It took Palom no time at all to gather what few belongings he had brought with him, which mainly consisted of a knapsack packed with medicines and his rod. Finally, one of the sailors called down to the hold that it was safe to deboard, and Palom surfaced for the last time, pressing his lips together as he cut one last glare at the men who had been his sole companions for the past month. He hadn't realized it until now, but in his painful trial of boredom and irritation, he found that he desperately missed Porom. At least arguing with her would have broken up the seemingly endless days – and she would have some intriguing thoughts about the return of the moon – of that he was sure.

He was going to make it a point to do whatever he needed to do in Troia as quickly as possible, and then haul himself back home tout de suite.

"I am so sorry that it took this long, my lord," the captain said as Palom approached the gangplank. Palom tossed his knapsack over his shoulder, and looked past the captain to the scenery that was spread before them. There was the white tower – it had to have been close to seven stories high, and was surrounded by a brick wall with a stretch of stairs that took you to the entrance, tightly sealed shut with two massive wooden doors. Beyond the tower was a swath of deep green forestry, split by the Troian river that ran all the way through to the Kingdom of Troia proper. From where he was standing, Palom could barely make out the very highest towers of the castle against the silver-tipped mountain range in the distance, and the village itself was completely obscured by the surrounding trees.

"Aren't we still quite a ways away from Troia?" Palom blinked.

"If you cross the western bridge and go north from there, you'll find a forest with chocobos. You can then cross the river on a chocobo, and you'll arrive in Troia in no time," one of the sailors offered – it was the one who had shared breakfast with him. Palom took a deep breath. He supposed that even the crew couldn't magically find a place for the ship to dock that was actually near Troia, given that the kingdom was either surrounded by mountains or trees.

"Fair enough," he relented.

"Please be careful, my lord," the captain frowned. "We'll be replenishing our supplies and preparing for the journey home. When you are ready to return, just give the word and we'll depart."

Palom crossed his arms. "Is that all?" The captain frowned, shaking his head.

"I...I am truly regretful for the delay..."

Palom stepped onto the gangplank, his back to the crew as he let out a soft laugh. "You don't have to kiss up to me like that. How old are you again?"

The captain shrugged. "S-sorry..."

Palom looked down, clenching the strap of his knapsack as he bit his lip. The heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach had started to manifest itself again – like his body was trying to forewarn him about leaving the ship. When he closed his eyes, he briefly saw a flash of pink the same color as the sunrise – he wondered if Porom was thinking about him. Maybe it was she who was broadcasting caution all the way from Mysidia. It had always been his sister who had been his guiding light on these journeys – the quiet, needling voice he had constantly tried to stomp out because he couldn't hear himself think.

With the sinking realization that he may not actually return to the ship when this was all over, Palom plastered a smile on his face and decided to leave the crew with as decent an impression of him as he could manage. He turned, raising his hand in a wave and tossing his head back so that his hair fell away from his eyes. "Well, see ya later!"

The crew raised their hands to his retreating backside, trying to contain their grins and cheers for after he was far, far away.

"Farewell, my lord!"

Following the instructions he had been provided, Palom soon found himself at the promised chocobo forest – a small cluster of trees by a bend in the river that was filled with leafy vegetables, greens and plenty of tri-pronged footprints imprinted in the dirt and mud. A family of chocobos was resting in a sunbeam that had broken through the tops of the trees, and they all opened their eyes and turned to stare warily at Palom as he approached.

"Hey…" Palom whispered, keeping his rod hidden behind his back as he walked. He had never been what anyone would call athletic, so chasing a chocobo wasn't going to be an option – but it didn't matter – he had mastered his own technique for catching the giant birds to ride on when he was a child, and it had never failed him once.

Before the chocobos could rise and run away, Palom brandished his rod and cried "Stop!". The time magic caused the gem at the top of his rod to turn a hazy purple, and the chocobo in the center of the herd froze, its eyes wide. The rest of the chocobos got up and fled, but Palom was able to stride over to the frozen chocobo, hop on his back, and get himself comfortably settled. After a few moments, the spell broke, and the chocobo shot up in surprise, looking around and snorting as it fluttered its wings, making Palom bounce on its back.

"Ha! Caught you, chocobo!" Palom grinned, clutching the bird's neck. He thought back to when he and Porom would sneak away to the chocobo forest on the southern tip of the Mysidian continent and race each other for hours, all unbeknownst to the Elder. Some days, they would even be brave enough to race around the base of Mount Ordeals, which had been the closest they had ever dared to get to the mountain prior to Cecil Harvey blowing into their lives like a hurricane. He felt a warmth spread in his chest at the happy memory – that had been when Porom didn't spend every waking moment of her life caring about what others thought about her and actually liked having fun.

The newly-acquainted pair broke out of the chocobo forest, and Palom guided the bird toward the towers of Troia Castle that he could just barely make out over the tops of the trees. With the speed they were going, Palom was flying by the monsters that were hiding among the branches and undergrowth of the forests – he couldn't even focus his vision long enough to fire off a warning shot to any of them if they should dare give chase. The air smelled deliciously sweet and damp, and even the rivers sparkled like diamond dust as the chocobo dashed through them, sending splashes of water into the air and against Palom's legs.

At long last, they broke through to a clearing and came to a winding dirt road that wrapped around both the western and eastern portions of the village before converging into a lane that took you to Troia Castle's doorstep in the northwest. As Palom rode past the village, he could see rolling fields of green crops being tended to by field hands and farmers wearing floppy straw hats and coveralls, and a group of young women splashing in a nearby pool of water. One of the swimming ladies wearing mere scraps of fabric for a top spotted Palom in the distance and gave an enthusiastic wave, and the mage nearly fell off his chocobo. He could hear a chorus of giggles drifting on the wind as he righted himself and blushed fiercely.

 _OK…maybe I won't be so quick to return to Mysidia after this mission is done – if the Epopt I'm training is anything like the girls in town, this is going to be the easiest mission ever – even if I don't know any white magic!_

It wasn't that Palom had exactly forgotten that Troia was the home to some of the most beautiful women in the world – but he sure appreciated the reminder.

At the drawbridge leading up to the castle gates, the chocobo began to slow down on its own, and Palom saw a pair of guards in pink, skin-tight leotards and plated shoulder pads and shin guards staring him down. They were some of the tallest women he had ever seen, and he saw that their white leather boots had no heel on them to give any boost in height. Both had their hair swept into high ponytails, with silver headbands adorning their crowns and thick great swords hanging from their waists. One of the guards leaned over, whispering something to the other, who nodded.

Jumping off the chocobo, Palom gave it a pat on the beak before turning and approaching the guards. Before he could even open his mouth, they stepped forward simultaneously and each gave a curt nod.

"You must be Palom, the mage the Epopts sent for."

"Er, yes," Palom blushed. The guard speaking to him had heavy-lidded brown eyes that made him feel as if he had strolled up to the gates naked, but he found if he tried to look anywhere else, he would feel just as naughty – and probably get his head cut off right then and there. Finally, he settled his eyes on the ground.

"Well, better late than never, I suppose," the other guard laughed, and Palom tried to contain a sneer – that wasn't his fault, after all. "Please come inside. Be advised that the Epopts are waiting for you – do not dawdle."

"Yes ma'am," Palom nodded, and brushed past the two of them. His hand accidentally ran against the fluid-like bamboo knit of one of the guard's uniforms, and he yanked it back as if he had touched fire. He was starting to understand that strange mix of being turned on and terrified at the same time that he had always heard about from men at the pub infatuated with female warriors – a rare breed you didn't come across too often in Mysidia.

The solarium contained within the inner keep of the castle was filled with sunlight, all pouring through the stained-glass ceilings that rose far beyond any man's reach. The white marble floors were polished so brilliantly that Palom could see his reflection as clearly as if he were staring into a mirror, and rows of water fountains on each side were babbling cheerfully, each depicting one of eight maidens conducting different tasks – drawing water, planting a garden, playing an instrument, praying with the wind tousling her hair, slaying a Cockatrice…

Palom followed a royal-violet carpet that had been laid out in the center of the solarium, climbing up several sets of steps before finding himself in front of yet another set of guards, although they were dressed differently from their counterparts outside – they looked more like the dancing girls Palom would sometimes sneak downtown to see on Saturday nights. The sneaking had become more of a habit than anything else since he was now at least old enough to watch the show – but he found that if he made his presence too obvious, someone would always end up ratting him out, resulting in a lecture from Porom, the Elder, or both, about just how serious he was about his training if he had enough time for "diversions", as they politely called it.

The guard caught Palom admiring her chainmail bikini top, and slammed the spear she was holding into the floor so roughly that Palom feared a crack would bloom within the precious marble. If he were blamed for something like that, it would take a lifetime of his meager allowance to ever cover the costs.

"What do you think you are staring at – some lewd dancer? We serve as the guardians of the Epopts!"

"This is the traditional uniform of the Troian guard," the other woman added, tossing back her waterfall of red hair. "It's been passed down for generations."

"It's a very nice tradition," Palom offered, and the guard let out a hissing sound.

"Let my words serve as the only reminder you will receive that the Epopts devote their entire lives to the gods and to the Crystal of Earth. Please don't do anything to offend them – including staring vulgarly."

"Vulgar!?" Palom cried. "I'm the one who is vulgar?!"

"Just let him pass," the other guard said irritably. "If he does anything stupid, the guards within the cloister will run him through."

"Jeeze," Palom shook his head. "Is it a crime to be a man here?"

"Practically," the two guards spat, and thrust their spears toward the closed doors behind them. "Now settle your business, and get out."

"All right, all right…" Palom sighed, pulling open the doors before him and stepping inside. He found himself standing before seven women, all of varying ages and heights, but with eerily similar features – in fact, were it not for the obvious differences in age between some of them, Palom would have guessed he was in the presence of septuplets. The Troian Epopts were as legendary as they were beautiful – sisters that allegedly had been chosen by the gods themselves to protect the Crystal of Earth, and were rumored to have the blood of the old gods within them as well.

The women all wore identical deep violet halter gowns that swept down to their sandal-clad toes and had open, exposed backs that just reached the tops of their hips. They also each had their chocolate-brown hair, some streaked with highlights of red, others glimmering with strands of silver, piled atop the crowns of their heads in elegant twists and curls, the nests of hair held together with golden bay leaf crowns.

Palom nodded his head, and the seven women nodded back to him in unison. The woman that appeared to be the eldest stepped forward, folding her hands together. Layers of golden bangles slid down her arms and clattered together, echoing throughout the otherwise silent hall.

"Thank you for coming to Troia. It must have been a long journey."

Palom rested his hands on his hips, trying not to laugh bitterly – even he knew well enough not to start in with the Epopts right away. He could feel the stares of the chamber guards in the back of his skull, just waiting for him to slip up. "That isn't the half of it."

The Epopt offered a small smile. "I'm sure you are aware of the reason why we have requested the elder of Mysidia to send you here..."

Palom nodded. "Epopt training, right? So, who'll I be working with?" He looked around, mentally counting one last time. Indeed, there were only seven Epopts standing before him…

"I thought Troia had all eight Epopt positions filled."

The Epopt shook her head. "One of our group has fallen ill, I'm afraid. The Epopts of Troia cannot fully carry out their role unless all eight of us serve as one. This admittedly has never been a concern of ours, until recently – we fear we cannot continue serving the Crystal of Earth in this state. Our crystal not only sustains our land, but provides balance for the other three Overworld crystals of Water, Fire and Wind as well – to have ours fall out of sync with the rest of the planet would bring unnecessary crisis to our lands and people."

Palom scratched his head. He had no idea the role the Epopts had played with the Earth crystal...it seemed a lot more complex than what the Mysidians did with the Water crystal, which from his perspective was basically praying a lot and hoping it didn't get stolen again. "Huh. So basically, you need a new Epopt, and fast."

"Exactly. I see the talented mage of Mysidia has a very sharp mind indeed."

Palom tried not to beam at the compliment – he heard similar sentiments quite often, but it meant something entirely different when it was coming from the leader of a nation. "So, who will it be?"

The Epopt raised her chin, staring at the doors Palom had come through. "Please enter, Leonora."

The guards standing near the doors pulled them open, and standing in the threshold was a young woman, who was already bowing low to the ground. As she lifted her head, she focused her gray and green-flecked eyes on Palom, who found himself not able to look away. There was something deeply haunting about the power coursing within – like he was watching a pot of boiling water with the lid vibrating precariously, about to be blown away by the bubbling pressure underneath.

Her ash blonde hair was swept into a high ponytail that hung past her shoulders, her chin-length bangs brushed over her forehead and falling down the side of her cheek in soft waves. Fastened upon her head was a seafoam green miter, trimmed with delicate white lace and secured with a silver and amethyst pin that wrapped behind her left ear.

Her petite frame was drowned in vestments in various shades of mint and blue, the sleeves of her robes so long that they hid her hands, which were clutching a silver rod adorned with a ruby orb. The silk layers of her gown and her robes cascaded beyond her feet, so as she stepped forward to approach the Epopts, it appeared as if she were gliding on a cloud of lace. Her the skirt of her gown faded from pale blue to a green and yellow gradient, the scalloped edging of the skirt spreading around her like a blooming flower.

She arched one curved brow as she looked away from Palom, taking her place next to the elder Epopt and reaching up to gently detangle a dangling emerald earring that had gotten caught in her hair. Palom could see how violently her hand was shaking underneath her sleeve, and knew that she had to be utterly terrified. If she stood up there too much longer, she was going to shatter like a glass ornament. Her pale lips were nearly as white as the rest of her face, and her eyes were so wide, they could have taken in the entirety of the ocean Palom had just escaped from.

 _This girl is a mess,_ Palom thought to himself. _Her eyes say one thing, but her body betrays her complete lack of confidence._ He marched right up to her, tilting his head as he took one last look at what he had to work with. She brought her rod closer to her chest, but managed to lock eyes with him once more. As soon as she did, Palom shook his head. "Yeah, this one is definitely in need of some training."

Leonora blinked, biting her lip.

"What? Did I offend you?" Palom smiled coolly. She slowly shook her head, her voice cracking as she whispered.

"No..."

The Epopt gently rested a hand on the girl's shoulder, and Palom watched as Leonora seemed to completely transform just from the Epopt's touch – her hunched shoulders dropped, her cheeks flushed with color, and the shaking regressed to a slight tremor. "Leonora permanently relocated to Troia about eight years ago. She immediately showed interest in joining the Epopts and has distinguished herself in service ever since. In recognition of her talents, we wanted to nominate her to the vacant position..."

Palom shook his head. "All right, all right. Enough introduction. If she was that talented, then why would she need training in the first place?" He glanced at Leonora, who was now staring at him with trepidation. "How can you say you have talent if you can't even become an Epopt without someone drilling things into you?"

Leonora was stunned into silence, and the Epopt cleared her throat. "Well, you see…"

"Besides, isn't it your job to train this girl?" Palom interrupted. The Epopt inhaled sharply, pressing her lips together. Suddenly, Leonora took a step forward, and before anyone could stop her, reached up, bringing the back of her hand across Palom's cheek with a loud crack.

The entire chamber fell silent, and Palom could swear he even heard the fountains outside stop running. Leonora lowered her arm, taking a deep breath. Before her hand could be swallowed back into her billowing sleeve, Palom noticed that her fingers were so delicate and white that they could have belonged to a doll – and yet they had hurt like hell!

"You...you are being rude!" Leonora cried, and Palom's jaw dropped as he reached up to touch his throbbing cheek. Her whisper of a voice had suddenly become the roar of a lioness – if he even looked at her askew, he had a feeling the rest of the skin on his face would be clawed off.

The Epopts all turned to face Leonora, who ignored their questioning looks. She took another step closer to Palom so that she was right in his face – although she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach him. Palom's eyes fell to her lips, which had become stained a slightly bruised red from her nervous habit of biting them.

"The Epopts are busy conducting their daily business! And...and with one of their number fallen ill, there are only seven of them to serve their nation!"

Palom raised his hands in the air in surrender, and Leonora clenched her teeth in response. "Okay, okay, okay. I didn't need a manifesto." She took a step back, eyeing the red handprint on his cheek warily as he turned back to the Epopts, who still hadn't recovered from Leonora's outburst and were staring at her like she had been possessed.

Palom cringed at the stinging on his face as he continued. "But are you sure I'm the man you want? An Epopt's job is to serve her Crystal, right? Wouldn't you want her to be trained in white magic instead? You've got the wrong person here if you expect me to know any white magic."

The Epopts looked at each other, frowning. "What...!?"

"The Elder really should've sent Porom to handle this," Palom added, and Leonora shook her head frantically.

"N-no, it's all right!"

"Eh?" Palom tilted his head.

Leonora looked back and forth between the Epopts and Palom. "White magic or black magic...both can provide me with the spiritual training I need!"

The Epopt who had been speaking for the group nodded slowly. "Mmmm…Leonora is right. Besides, I'm sure the elder of Mysidia had a plan of his own mind when he sent you."

Palom looked away, clenching his jaw. If there was one thing he hated, it was not having all of the information to which he felt he was entitled. So, what else was there about this mission that the Elder had decided to leave out of the briefing? "…Looks like it."

The Epopts all nodded to each other, and the leader cleared her throat. "Then, Lord Palom, we hereby request you accompany Leonora to the Tower of Trials."

"The Tower of Trials?"

"It lies south of here. If Leonora can reach its top floor, we will then ordain her as an Epopt."

 _That must have been the tower I saw when we docked the ship…So I was fated to see it after all._

Leonora bowed so low that her ponytail nearly brushed the floor. "It will be done." She stood back up, turning toward Palom and extending her hand. He instinctively flinched when he saw it coming at him, but realized she was just offering it up for a handshake. "I look forward to training with you, Lord Palom."

He pressed his lips together, grasping her hand. Her ivory fingers were swallowed whole within his own.

* * *

"It was good of you to think of securing a chocobo for our journey."

"Well it would seem like you need one to get anywhere on this damn continent."

"You have something to say about every little thing, don't you Lord Palom?"

Palom sighed. They were passing the village once more, and he could see the girls who were swimming still out and about, splashing each other and laughing. Leonora followed his gaze, a small smile on her lips. She was sitting behind Palom on the chocobo, taking care to only hold the edges of his coat – and had remained silent their entire trip out of the castle, up until now.

"Those girls are all training to be Epopts too, you know," she said. Palom flinched and tore his eyes away, staring straight ahead at the forest that was about to engulf them.

"Er…what girls?"

Leonora giggled. "The ones over there waving to you." Palom's head whipped around so quickly that the chocobo was nearly jerked into a different direction. Leonora covered her widening smile when Palom saw that she had been bluffing – the girls hadn't been paying attention to them at all – they were much more occupied by whatever game they were playing. Now that Palom was passing through with another woman at his side, he had become persona non grata.

"That training exercise is very difficult," Leonora explained, as if Palom had asked her. "You are to sit in a cold pool of water just until the moment where you feel as if your heart were about to burst. It's supposed to sharpen your meditation skills."

"And I guess you passed if you're here now, taking the final exam, so-to-speak?"

"Yes," Leonora nodded. "But be rest assured, most of the other trials do not involve bathing suits."

"Of course," Palom shook his head. "It's a silly assumption to make when your Epopt guardian corps wear chainmail bikinis."

Leonora blinked. "Hmmm?"

 _No one can possibly be this naïve_ , Palom thought, gazing up at the ever-watchful twin moons. _It's going to be a long day._

* * *

"This, er...this is the Tower of Trials."

"What's on the top floor, anyways?"

Leonora pressed her hands together in a prayer position as she stared up toward the top of the tower – Palom wondered if she did that to keep them from shaking. Too bad it didn't work for the rest of her body.

"The...the Monastic Seal," Leonora glanced back at Palom, her face as white as a pearl.

Palom shrugged. "So you grab that, come back, and you're an Epopt?"

"Y-yes."

"That sounds easier than freezing your arse off in a pool, right? Let's get cracking."

Leonora nodded, climbing the ivory steps until she reached the tightly-shut double doors that were their only entrance into the tower. Sinking to her knees, she bowed her head, lacing her fingers together and pressing them into the center of her chest as her eyes slid shut.

"O great Earth Crystal, who hath blessed us with the great bounties of the land...For the clear water and lush forests you have bequeathed us, I offer you our thanks...and our prayers."

A loud grinding rang out that made Palom flinch – like metal grinding against something sharp. A shower of dust rained down from between the doors, and they slid open, swinging outward and beckoning them into the shadowy darkness within. Leonora opened her eyes, letting out a soft whimper when she saw what awaited them. Palom skipped up the stairs two at a time, whistling.

"Well, glad to see you can recite your prayers, at least."

Leonora wobbled as she stood back up, and Palom offered her his arm, which she grasped onto gratefully. "Y-yes... I, uh, are you ready to go, Lord Palom?"

Palom glanced over at her, dropping his arm once he saw she was on her own two feet again. "Let's make something clear first." Leonora looked up at him, frowning. She could already tell which of his tones led to scary conversations, and she had only been by his side for less than an hour.

"Y-yes?"

"Could you knock it off with that "Lord Palom" junk?"

Leonora stared at her feet, her cheeks exploding in pink. "B-but..."

Palom sighed. "I'm _pretty_ sure we're the same age. It's just not appropriate."

Leonora snorted softly under her breath. "I, er...I'm actually two years _older_ than you."

Palom blinked. This was getting more and more ridiculous – and what had little miss polite done, drawn up a dossier on him so that she knew what to expect when he finally arrived? "Oh yeah? Good for you, but don't expect me to start calling you "Ms. Leonora" or anything."

"Th-that's...er, that's perfectly fine with me, Lord Palom."

"Like I said, enough with the "Lord"."

Leonora pressed her lips together, staring up into his eyes briefly before squeaking. "Y-yes...yes, P-Palom!"

Palom shook his head. "That's better...I guess."

As they shuffled through the tower's entrance, Leonora took one glance behind them, and Palom realized she was staring up at the twin moons, the grays of her eyes darkening and teeming with gloom. Without looking away, she half-whispered to her new teacher.

"P-Palom…did you hear about the monster attack?"

"Hardly," Palom frowned. "Just third-hand information from a botched radio transmission. What do you know about it?"

"Not much myself," Leonora shook her head. "But I heard the Epopts talking about it last night – they say that it was Baron the monsters targeted – and no one has heard from the royal family since."


	10. Act Ten: Leonora's Tale

Act Ten: Leonora's Tale | The Tenacious Heart

 _Baron!? That was the kingdom overrun by monsters? Cecil…Rosa…Prince Ceodore…were they hurt in the attack, or…?_

Palom looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. Leonora stared at him curiously, wondering what had vexed him. Of what little she knew of her trainer, she had certainly not expected him to show any kind of interest in affairs outside the immediate orbit of Planet Palom.

"Have the Epopts tried making contact…?" he asked softly. Leonora looked away, lowering her eyes to the floor.

"I was trying not to listen in on the conversation…it sounded grave, whatever it was. There are simply things I am not entitled to know about if I am not among their ranks, and I have to respect that."

Palom sighed, shaking his head. He begrudgingly realized that for now, he needed to focus on the task at hand – perhaps after Leonora became an Epopt, he could get some information out of her about Baron. He found it hard to believe that a few monster hordes could defeat the paladin Cecil and white mage Rosa – but maybe there was more to the story. That seemed to be the theme of the day, after all.

The taste left in his mouth from his visit with the Epopts had him highly suspicious of the Troian kingdom as a whole. The very existence of a Tower of Trials, and the way the Epopts had reacted when Palom had questioned why Leonora wasn't training in white magic – they simply hadn't seemed as surprised about Palom being tapped to train her than he felt they _should_ have been. And if the situation in Baron was "grave", why had the Epopts not sent aid? The unknowns were driving him mad – it was all just inexplicable enough that he couldn't yet put the pieces of the puzzle together on his own.

Trying to push all of the distractions from his mind, Palom turned to face his charge. "Well, let's get to changing that, shall we? If you don't make it to the top of this tower, you're never going to become an Epopt."

Leonora nodded, her eyes still adjusting to the darkness of the chamber they had entered. "Y-yes…"

Palom took a better look at their surroundings. They were in a nearly-empty room, save for a few unlit torches hanging from the walls, and piles of wood resting at their feet. Around the corner, he could see a hallway twisting away from them, leading into an even deeper darkness. "Ready to start with your training?"

Leonora smiled hesitantly. "C-Certainly! Please, tell me what I need to do."

Palom stretched his arms behind his head, eyeing the firewood and the empty torches. "Let's begin with the basics. That would be Fire. You know what Fire is?"

She blinked. "What is it?"

Palom face-palmed. _And when do I write this girl off as a lost cause?_ "…It's a fire attack."

"Er, yes. Of course," Leonora laughed softly. But Palom tuned away, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"...That's it."

Leonora gasped, bringing her hands to her face. "Wait...wh-what? That's it?"

Palom glared over his shoulder. "Come on, Leonora. I _thought_ they said you had talent. The first thing you need with magic is the ability to project an image of the magic in question. That's part of the idea behind spell transcription, too. Clear your mind and create an image of pure fire. Then project it onto reality!" Palom raised his left hand, snapping his fingers. The three torches in front of them burst to life with golden-red flame, and Leonora clapped her hands together.

"Wow! That's amazing!"

Palom rolled his eyes. This was like talking to a five year-old. "Now you do it." He took one of the logs, drop kicking it toward Leonora. "Here's what you'll be practicing on. Now, go on!"

Leonora nodded, slowly closing her eyes as she folded her hands together. She began to mutter out loud, much to Palom's irritation. "O-o-okay! F... Fi... Fire... Scorching red flames, burning brightly... The searing fire of a furnace..."

She parted her hands, and a delicate, trembling flame burst above the log, but faded away to nothingness before it could even hit the wood. Leonora opened one eye, and sighed despondently.

"You couldn't set a piece of paper on fire with that," Palom frowned.

"...Yes, sir. I'll try my best."

She tried again, closing her eyes once more and muttering under her breath. Just as her hands started to feel so hot that she could barely stand the searing pain bubbling beneath her flesh, she thrust them forward, and a much larger flame erupted in mid-air, briefly lighting the entire chamber. It fell upon the log, catching fire for a few moments before burning out.

"Okay, that's enough!" Palom barked, and Leonora opened her eyes. He gave her a curt nod. "Okay, not bad. Now let's see how well you do in a real battle."

Leonora gulped. "A _real_ battle!?"

"Training has no meaning if you can't do it in real life situations, right? Can you maintain your composure and visualize that image with a monster staring you down? That's the key."

Leonora looked away, tapping her finger on her cheek. "Maintain your composure...Contain your mainposure…Irk..."

Palom groaned. "You've lost it already, haven't you?"

"N-no!" Leonora cried, her face blushing embarrassedly. "I can do it!"

Palom took point, gesturing toward the walls of the hallway they were coming up upon. "Well, until we have such an opportunity, I want you to light every single torch on this floor." Leonora nodded, her smile returning.

"Yes, sir!"

As they walked, Leonora diligently lit each torch that they passed, although some took her several tries to get it right. Palom continued walking, expecting her to catch up on her own. As he turned the final corner in the twisted hallway, he was shocked to find a little red monster sitting on the floor in front of a stairwell, gazing up into nothingness.

It was a tiny thing – standing up, it would only reach Palom's knees – but Palom knew from his own training that the ferocity contained in their petite forms when provoked was unmatched by most other creatures. Resembling a child-like, sunburned human boy, the monster was called a Guardian – it wore a simple pair of red slacks and a red vest, along with a red stocking cap. Its dim black eyes shone with light when it was casting a spell, and its mouth, normally pressed shut since it would cast its magic telepathically, would only open to reveal rows of jagged, sharp teeth if it felt desperate enough to launch itself onto its enemy. You never wanted a battle with a Guardian to get to that point – you were better off running away if you didn't have a backup plan.

 _A Fire Guardian…_ Palom thought, quickly glancing behind him to see how Leonora was progressing with the torches. Several were still left unlit, and he could see she was trying not to get frustrated with the one she was currently failing to ignite. Her brows were knit together, and her lips were curled into a pout that was somewhat cute in the half-darkness. He looked back toward the monster, who still had not noticed them.

 _It's true that Guardians are good target practice for novice black mages – one weakness, and they can be easily subdued by an expert if things get out of control. But how would a regular Epopt who only knew white magic fight it? I doubt this little guy wandered into the tower on its own…_

Leonora's breathy gasp blew against his ear, and he nearly screamed in shock, catching his breath just in time.

"What's that!?" Leonora whispered. Behind her, the remainder of the torches were burning triumphantly.

Palom cocked his head. He knew that if he scared Leonora too much, she would never agree to what he was going to propose next. Yet, he had to keep her on her toes – coddling would get her nowhere, even with her below-grade confidence level. He didn't want to make the same mistake with her that so many others had made with him – didn't want to give her the impression that the sun could shine out of her arse with a snap of her fingers. He installed a false assurance in his tone that made him want to roll his own eyes – but he had to make it seem like this was no big deal. "A Guardian. A Fire Guardian, to be precise. Here, you try fighting this one by yourself."

Leonora raised her hands to her face, but all he could see were swaths of silky fabric quivering. "B-by myself!?"

"Yeah, by yourself. Now, go on!" He grabbed her arm, tossing her forward.

Leonora took a few hesitant steps, and the Guardian glanced up at her, tilting his head. Palom could tell that so far, it wasn't registering Leonora as any kind of a threat, which was a good thing. Maybe in terms of Guardians, it was a little on the slow side? Leonora gulped, glancing back at Palom.

"Should I keep my eyes open, or closed?"

"Would you really stop to ask that during a battle?" Palom shook his head. "Do you know _any_ white magic?"

"Y-Yes, of course…I am an Epopt candidate, after all…"

"Then do what you would normally do casting a white magic spell…only remember to think of fire!" He watched the Guardian, who had climbed to its feet – and its black eyes were beginning to sparkle. "And, er…maybe hurry it up if you don't want to be fried to a crisp."

Leonora gasped, whirling around and clenching her eyes shut as she thrust out her rod. "F-Fire!"

A torrent of flame encircled the Guardian, the crackling of the dancing light drowning out the monster's cries as it decomposed into a tiny pile of gray, glittering ashes. Leonora opened her eyes, and started to excitedly jump up and down, her eyes alit with happiness.

"I...I did it!"

Palom felt his lips twitch into a small smile as he watched her from behind, but kept his voice firm. "It's not something to be that excited about...That's just one of the building blocks you can eventually upgrade into higher-level magic."

Leonora spun around to face him, her face flushed. "H-higher-level magic?"

"Fira, and then Firaga. The more powerful the spell, the more you'll need to concentrate your energy."

Leonora nodded eagerly. "Of course! Just like Cura, Curaga and Curaja, right? I-I'll try to upgrade Fire, too!"

Palom shrugged. "Of course, most people give up at this point…"

But Leonora, ignoring his lecture, had already bolted up the stairs to the next level. Palom watched her go, pressing his fingers to his lips. _These trials aren't appropriate for an Epopt…this tower is a training ground for black magic. The first floor would have been a labyrinth of darkness if you didn't know how to light the torches, and the Guardian would easily be able to take you by surprise. How could any white magic-wielding Epopt possibly make it to the top on her own? Even Porom would have had a hard time._ Palom started to approach the stairwell when a piercing scream rang out from above. He felt his heart leap into his throat, his pulse quickening.

 _Leonora…!_

Palom broke into a run, taking the stairs two at a time, and found himself in a new chamber with the same twisting halls as the last. But this time, instead of random piles of wood or unlit torches, he found Leonora's flickering shadow retreating from around a corner, her rod raised in front of her face as she clumsily stumbled backwards. A horde of skeletons was clamoring after her, each holding a chipped blade that shone in the lit sconces hanging from above.

"Leonora!" Palom cried. "The undead are weak against fire – stand your ground!"

"Ahhh!" Leonora sniffled. "I can't concentrate…They ambushed me!"

"You HAVE to!" Palom demanded, but even as he said it, he raised his left hand in preparation to strike.

"F-F-FIRE!" Leonora gasped, and swung her rod in a sweeping semi-circle. As flames began to spew out of the ruby orb atop her weapon, she also smashed one of the skeletons in the head, knocking it to the floor as the rest of its body ignited. The horde disappeared in another ashy heap, and Leonora covered her mouth with her sleeve, waving away the smoke and dust with her rod.

"Ugh…can't breathe…!"

"Easy now," Palom jogged over to Leonora, patting her back as she coughed. "Are you OK?" She nodded, her eyes red and watering from what Palom hoped was just the fumes from her spell. He dropped his hand from her back, which suddenly felt slick with sweat.

"Were you told there would be monsters like that?" Palom asked, and Leonora quickly shook her head.

"No…not at all. You heard same as I – that we merely needed to reach the top of the tower…"

Palom clenched his jaw as he spotted a pot at the end of the hall from where Leonora had fled from. In the barren, no-frills hall, it stood out like a flashing neon sign.

 _This is getting more and more problematic…_

He grabbed Leonora's wrist, tugging her down the hall toward the pot as she gasped for air.

"Wh-what's that?" Leonora asked as he released her. The pot itself was nothing valuable – just an ancient clay piece that had not been treated kindly over the years – it was covered in cracks that had been hastily sealed with liquid gold or quicksilver, and was long-overdue for a fresh layer of glaze. But inside, there was a brightly-colored, sparkling blue liquid – and Palom cupped his hands within it, scooping some out and holding it to Leonora's pale face.

"Take a look."

Leonora leaned in, giving the liquid a careful sniff and gazing up at Palom. "It smells…rather revitalizing. Like someone just waved smelling salts under my nose."

Palom brought his hands to his lips, swallowing the liquid down. Leonora reached into the pot, mimicking him. She shuddered as it hit her mouth, but finished it all and exhaled deeply.

"Ugh! What is it? It tastes disgusting – but now I feel much better…?" Her eyes had become bright again, and her breathing slow and even.

"We mages are just regular people when we run out of mana," Palom explained. "Medicines that can restore our mana – like Ethers – are critical if we're going to be constantly casting spells. Otherwise, you have to rest your body to recharge your magical batteries, for lack of a better description. You can think of mana as the physical manifestation of your spiritual energy, a counterpart to the normal energy your body needs to function that you get from eating and sleeping. If you deplete your mana and you keep attempting to cast magic, you'll take energy away from your body. And if you keep doing that…" Palom dragged his finger across his throat, and Leonora blanched.

"I-I understand. I'll be careful about that! So, this is Ether?"

"This is an Elixir, actually," Palom frowned. "It's supposed to restore both your physical and spiritual energy. It's really expensive to buy – so to find a giant pot of it just waiting for us…" He raised his eyebrows. "…It's a little too much of a coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

"What do you mean?" Leonora blinked.

"The Fire Guardian…and now these monsters…I think they were all planted here for the Epopt candidates to fight."

"That's…impossible. There must be some sort of mistake," Leonora laughed nervously. "I'm certainly not saying I'm better than anyone else, but…I doubt any of my counterparts could possibly fight these horrible…things. It's like setting us up to f-fail."

Palom raised his eyebrows, and Leonora's smile faltered. Wordlessly, they continued down the hall until they reached the new stairway – and waiting for them was another Guardian – the same breed they had encountered on the floor below. It was laying on its stomach, kicking its legs back and forth as it stared at the ceiling.

"How convenient. One Guardian per floor," Palom smirked. "But you know what that means. You're up."

"M-me!?" Leonora gulped.

"Well, I'm not the one in training here, am I?"

"N-no, but..."

Palom pointed toward the Guardian. "Good luck, kid."

Leonora sighed and stepped forward, brandishing her rod once more. The Guardian glanced up at her curiously, and Leonora whispered softly.

"Blazing heat…sweat pours down my face…the sun glares in my eyes…"

 _Hurry it up…!_ Palom thought. The Guardian was starting to bare its fangs – whatever this one had picked up from Leonora's aura, it didn't like one bit.

 _It can sense the same power she harbors deep within that I felt when I first saw her eyes_ , Palom frowned. _But she has no clue, does she?_

"Fire!" Leonora cried with the most confidence Palom had heard yet, and the Guardian burst into flames, its cries muting as it crumbled into dust. She grinned, pumping her fist into the air. "I-I did it, Lord Palom!" She glanced back at him, her smile fading when she saw the cross look in his eyes. "I-I mean, _Palom_!"

Palom shrugged. _This is just the beginning, dear._ "That was passable…at best."

Leonora huffed and rested her hands on her hips. "Black magic is certainly harder to learn than white magic."

Palom started to climb the now-clear stairwell, not exactly excited about what they might find on the next level of the tower. "It's not a matter of difficulty. Most people are just better suited towards one or the other. That's why you get called a Sage if you've mastered both black and white magic." He paused mid-step, and Leonora nearly smacked into him – she had quietly drifted behind him as he had begun his ascent. Whirling around, he grasped her shoulders, and she squeaked in protest.

"Wait a minute! That isn't what you're training to become, is it!?"

Leonora gasped, looking up at him. "What? Oh...of course not! Never in my wildest dreams!" She looked away, biting her lip. "I just wanted to become an Epopt…I had no idea any of this would be involved…" She let out a trembling sigh, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "But I'm not going to give up. I'm sure with you as my teacher, I'll make it to the top of the tower."

Palom released her shoulders, turning away. He could feel a rush of heat running up the back of his neck, and for a moment, he felt ashamed that he had even questioned her.

And so what if she _had_ wanted to become a sage? What was it to him? If he thought about it too long, he didn't like the answer that whispered to him from deep within his heart of hearts. _She has the potential, does she not? So few people do…_

Palom let out a snort. "...That's what I thought. Let's continue."

Leonora reached up, touching her hand to where Palom had been gripping her shoulder. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers on her skin through the sleeve of her robe.

* * *

As they progressed upward through the tower, Palom decided it was time to move on to a new spell – Blizzard. They ran into another gang of monsters – this time, a pack of Red Mousse. They were members of the Flan family, which meant they were glistening, sticky blobs of slime impervious to most weapons. Given the chance, they were known to suffocate their enemies if they managed to knock them over, but were otherwise easily dispatched with a low level magic spell.

Slaying all of the Red Mousse except one so that they couldn't gang up on the two of them, Palom then proceeded to cast Stop, and froze the creature in place. He turned to Leonora, who was watching with unabashed deference.

"A b-blizzard spell is ice magic?" Leonora twirled her rod anxiously.

"Right, but don't think about ice when you cast it. Think about the feeling of cold itself." He nodded toward the stopped Red Mousse. "Practice on this."

She nodded, closing her eyes. "The cold itself? Mmm... Cold air... Cold... Cold... Cold!" Her voice raised with each exclamation, and she wrapped her arms around herself, hopping like a child who had just fallen into a snow pile and had gotten a cold surprise in their knickers.

Palom grimaced. "You got the idea...even if you are scaring me a little."

"Cold... Cold..." Leonora scrunched her face up in thought, and thrust out her hands. "Blizzard!"

A whirlwind of snow flakes and ice crystals swirled around the Red Mousse, drenching it in ice and shattering it into diamond dust before their eyes. Leonora squealed, and Palom gave a nod of approval.

"There. You're starting to get it."

"I...I think so…!" Leonora breathed, gazing down at her hands.

"But that is one seriously creepy face you're making…"

They crossed the third and fourth floors of the tower, encountering yet more monsters that Palom continued to assist in slaying. It seemed that the higher they got, the stronger the monsters became – even he couldn't bring himself to make Leonora try to take all of them on by herself. As much as he hated to admit it, he was barely managing to keep up on his own – and that pot of healing Elixir seemed so far away now. But when they reached the end of the fourth floor's pathway, Palom was not surprised to see that yet another Guardian was waiting for them – this time, instead of being head-to-toe in red, it was dressed in blue and had pale white skin. Leonora tilted her head and turned to face Palom.

"Um, you'd like me to handle this one too, right?"

"Of course. Now, just keep that creepy face of yours going, and you'll be done in no time."

Leonora screwed her face back up, and Palom had to pinch himself to keep from laughing – he didn't want her to think he was starting to go soft. She stepped forward, and before the Ice Guardian could register her appearance, she had cast Blizzard and obliterated it with one hit – it wasn't the most powerful Blizzard spell that had ever been cast, but it did the trick. She spun around, clapping her hands.

"I...I did it!"

"Are you seriously trying here?" Palom frowned, and Leonora stopped dancing about, lowering her hands and biting down on her lip. For a few moments, she had truly looked radiant with happiness and seemed excited about her mission – but his words had handily decimated any trace of euphoria.

"I'm sorry..."

Palom rubbed the back of his head. _That came out a little rougher than I intended…_ "I'm not looking for an apology or anything…"

 _But what exactly am I looking for? For her to struggle more? Why am I here if she can do this on her own, after all?_

Leonora shuffled to Palom's side, delicately resting her hands over his. "I'll try even harder from now on! So...so teach me more, Palom! Please!"

Palom eyed her hands warily, but didn't pull away. "Can I ask you a question, then?"

"Y-yes, what is it?"

"An Epopt shouldn't need to know black magic for her job. So why are you so set on learning this stuff?"

Leonora frowned, her eyes drifting up toward the stairwell that would take them to the fifth floor. "I, er... want to further my mind _and_ spirit."

 _Oh really?_ Palom smirked, keeping his eyes locked onto hers. He could tell by the way she had started to twitch that he was making her uncomfortable – and one thing Leonora definitely did not have a talent for was lying. He thought it was funny that she and his twin had the same tells – they couldn't bear to look someone in the eye if they were even slightly wavering from the truth. For him, telling a lie was as easy as describing the weather outside his window – he could even convince himself of his own falsehoods. "Troia's a peaceful nation. Its Epopts aren't supposed to be fighting battles. But there's something weird going on in this land... you know?"

Leonora still wouldn't look at him – he leaned in, clutching her fingers and hissing in her ear.

"This ringing a bell for you at all?"

Leonora closed her eyes, letting her fingers go limp in his. After a few moments that were so rife with tension, a monster could have waltzed right up to them and elicited nary a reaction – Palom dropped her hand, and she immediately clutched it to her chest.

"Don't want to talk about it, I see," Palom said quietly. With that, he turned and started marching up the stairs. Leonora followed him silently, and when they reached the new floor, they found themselves once more completely submerged in darkness – but this time, there were no torches on the wall to be lit, or firewood lying about. Palom slowly felt his way over to the walls, and his palms pressed against something cold and flat – it felt like a sheet of metal.

"I think there are windows here," Palom frowned, "But they're being covered by something." Leonora started to approach him, but let out a cry, falling to the floor in a heap of fabric.

"O-Ouch! I tripped…"

"On what?" Palom asked dryly, not lifting his fingers from their spot on the wall. She rolled onto her side, rubbing the throbbing top of her foot with one hand and feeling around blindly with the other. Her hand brushed over a metal box, no bigger than a few inches wide. Leaning in closer, she could see snaking wires emerging from within, and as her fingers traced over them, she realized they were running toward Palom.

"It's some kind of mechanical device," Leonora blinked. "There are wires that are going in your direction." Palom dragged the toe of his boot along the floor and found that she was right – a set of wires was indeed there, and they appeared to be crawling up the wall toward the window.

 _Of course,_ Palom thought. _There is no doubt now – this was definitely meant for someone who knows black magic._

Leonora pulled herself up, reaching to adjust her miter, which had nearly fallen off from her tumble. "So...next up is Thunder, right?"

Palom raised his eyebrows. Maybe she was starting to think like a black mage after all? "Yeah. Let's get started. In your mind, I want you to think of the most terrible storm you have ever been in. How fiercely did your house shake when the thunder rolled through? What color was the lightning as it illuminated the night sky? When the rain crashed against your window, what did it sound like?"

Leonora closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Thunder... Rain Clouds... Lightning!" The air around her had started to become heavy with humidity, and she could feel the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing up from the tingling static electricity that had embraced her form. Slamming her rod down to the floor, there was a loud crash from above, and when her eyes snapped back open, Palom could see a ghostly light pouring from them, like twin lanterns.

"Thunder!" Leonora called, and a shower of lightning shot down from above, colliding with the device at her feet and causing it to pop from the floor, sparks erupting. The metal under Palom's fingers began to slide away, and he quickly jerked his hand back, watching as the plate on the wall rolled away and revealed a full-length window, golden-red dying sunlight pouring in and illuminating the rest of the chamber. Other metal shutters down the hall followed suit, the banging as they flew open echoing in the distance. It was revealed that the chamber floor was filled with snaking wires, all of them now quietly humming with electricity.

"You're certainly getting into the swing of things now," Palom said, and Leonora beamed.

"Thank you very much!"

"Don't get too confident. This is usually the point where people let their egos sink them."

Leonora nodded – their awkward moment in the chamber below forgotten in the excitement of learning a new spell. "Er, yes. I understand!"

Palom took the lead, and they exited the fifth floor and made their way to the next stairwell unscathed. As soon as they crossed the threshold to the sixth floor, a wild crackling could be heard in the air – like someone had severed all of the wires below and let them flail about. The air was so dry and alit with static that Palom felt a painful shock run up his arm when his hand brushed against Leonora's robe.

Leonora pressed her lips together. "Is that…a Thunder Guardian, perhaps?"

"Feels like several," Palom frowned. "Taking them all on at once is going to be harder than anything you've fought so far."

"I won't let my ego get the best of me!" Leonora smiled. "We're close…I can feel it. I simply cannot give up now."

"Don't tell me. Show me," Palom turned away and continued forward, Leonora scampering after him to keep up with his long strides. Sure enough, at the end of the spiraling hallway, a group of three Thunder Guardians were brawling in golden yellow clothes – the spells they had been casting on each other had been charging the air around them with the intense electrical pressure they had felt.

Leonora's eyes followed each Guardian as they threw themselves on top of each other, sinking their fangs into various limbs and flying into walls as they shot each other with Thunder spells. Palom stood a few feet away, wondering what she was going to do. If it were his choice, he would fry them all with a single Thundaga spell and call it a day – they wouldn't have had time to even blink. But obviously, that was an impossibility with Leonora at the helm.

"If I attack one, the other two might come after me," Leonora sighed warily. "I'm not fast enough to take the others down right after the first."

"True," Palom nodded. _She's starting to at least think strategically..._

Leonora's knuckles were turning white from how tightly she was clenching her rod. Palom could hear the delicate silver rings that were hanging from the ruby orb jingling against each other – her hands were shaking again. "…Perhaps I can strike them all at once with a Thunder spell. It must be similar to casting a Cure spell on all of your allies, correct?"

"It is similar. Your spell will be weakened by having multiple targets, though – you have to focus even more of your energy."

"Okay!" Leonora nodded, and stepped forward. "I-I'll concentrate as hard as I possibly can!" The three Guardians snapped to attention when she spoke up – six eyeballs glared at the petite menace that had materialized before them. Deep growls rose from their throats, and sparks ignited from their lifeless ebony eyes.

"Watch yourself!" Palom cried.

But it was too late – before he had finished his warning, the three Guardians simultaneously cast a barrage of Thunder spells. Leonora closed her eyes, raising a hand in the air as her body became enveloped in a shimmering rainbow aura that the lightning bounced off of – and then came crashing back down upon the perpetrators.

 _A Reflect spell!_ Palom was taken aback. _She's that advanced as a white mage…?_

She opened her eyes as the Guardians were assaulted with their own attacks, howling in protest as they fell to the floor in a frenzied heap. Grasping her rod with two hands, Leonora raised it high in the air as she cast a Thunder spell of her own, the bolt drawn into her rod and igniting the ruby orb atop it as she swung it down and released the magic upon the Guardians. In a flash of light, they exploded into dust that rained upon the two mages, and the battle was over.

Leonora flicked away the sweat that was pouring down her forehead, tilting her chin in relief as a nervous giggle escaped her lips. "...I did it!"

Palom could only stare at the back her head, rendered speechless. _So…this is the kind of power you can wield when you have control over both white and black magic…_

Leonora turned toward him, her smile so luminescent that it could have lit every floor in the tower. Palom tried to wipe the stupid look off his face, and forced his features to fall into their default look of indifference. Even so, Leonora remained aglow with joy.

He cleared his throat. "Well, you've now officially mastered the basics of black magic. But don't think that's the end of it. You've only just made it to the starting line."

"Y-yes, Palom!" Leonora exclaimed. He tapped his finger against his forearm, shaking his head.

"Black magic is all about knowing the properties of things. Their weaknesses and strengths. Which magic works best against what type of target – you need to have that knowledge drilled into you to be effective with your new spells. The most powerful form of any element will do nothing if you are using it against a monster that is invulnerable."

Leonora nodded. "Y-yes...it's all a matter of training, I suppose."

Palom clicked his tongue against the roof his mouth. "That's right, and if you don't have a natural talent for it, you'll just have to work that much harder."

She pushed her hair away from her face – her eyes were as intense and determined as ever as they pierced into Palom. "Understood…" Palom gestured for her to move forward, and she turned and disappeared up the stairs, with him following closely behind.

Unlike the previous floors of the tower, the seventh level was a singular chamber, with no hallways and no signs of any monsters or traps. A cathedral-style ceiling rose high above them with finely polished oak rafters, and sunlight drifted through rows of stained-glass windows, resulting in an explosion of rainbow colors on the floor that illuminated Leonora's robes as she crossed down the aisle way, draped in creamy woven silk carpets. Standing before them was a broad gray marble plinth shaped like a tombstone. A sparkling emerald was inlaid at the top, with a short paragraph of words etched in the stone beneath it. Palom looked to the left and the right, and crossed his arms.

"This looks like the top floor. There's nowhere else to go…"

Leonora smiled, clasping her hands together. "Y-yes, it is!" She ran to the plinth, pressing her palms against it like a child staring into the window of a toy store and reading the inscription silently. Palom snuck up behind her, and let out a bark of laughter.

"Let's see here..."The _Monastic Seal_ is the very words etched on this plinth..." Now that's really stupid. So simply getting here is good enough?"

He was so amused by his observation that he didn't notice Leonora's shoulders twitch beneath him.

"If that's all you need to do to be a Troian Epopt, then you have to wonder what kind of..."

Leonora lowered her head, screwing her eyes shut as her fingers curled against the plinth. Her ponytail slid over her shoulder, gently rustling against her silken robes. "Stop it! _Please_!" Her plea had started out as a choked whisper, but the word "please" had escalated to a raspy, threatening wail.

Palom blinked, taking a step back. Leonora pressed her forehead against the plinth, and he watched as a single tear escaped between her lashes and slid down her cheek.

"You can say whatever you want to about me. I don't care! But when it comes to the Epopts... I won't just stand here and let you insult them right in front of my face!" She took a deep breath, lifting her head and turning to face Palom. He swallowed nervously, his stomach flipping like he was back on the sea, being tossed about in that horrible storm that had driven them off course. Her cheeks were stained the same pink as the sunset outside, and her eyes were glistening as more tears fell. She took a step toward him, but he couldn't bring himself to move – or look away. If another slap was coming, then so be it.

"Leonora..."

But instead of raising her hand to strike, she brought it to her lips, which had become stained with her tears. "I love how gentle and kind everyone in Troia has been me since I returned. Maybe it doesn't seem like much to some magical prodigy like you, but…!"

Palom shook his head. "Ah, sorry...I wasn't trying to make fun of them..."

Leonora turned away, her eyes searching the stained-glass windows as she blinked away her tears. "I had lived in Troia when I was child – we sought asylum there after our village had been overrun with monsters thanks to the war – and the Epopts granted us permission to stay. But after the war ended, my parents both wanted to start over somewhere quiet and remote, like our village had been before it was wiped off the map. We moved away, but I never forgot how in awe I was of the Troian Epopts and how they had saved us when we had had nowhere else to go. I felt a spark come alive inside of me that I had never felt before – it was the birth of my dream."

Palom stared down at his feet, trying to ignore the beginning throes of penitence that were pulsing feverishly in his chest. Leonora still had not bothered to look at him – he idly wondered if the sight of him disgusted her now.

"When I was sixteen, my parents decided that if I were serious about becoming an Epopt, then there was no choice but for me to return to Troia. We packed up everything we had, and made our way back once again…and it was like we had never left. I was accepted as an Epopt trainee, and never once was I treated like an outsider, or ridiculed for my lack of abilities compared to the other girls who had formal white magic training." She arched a brow in Palom's direction, and he felt his face flush.

 _Leonora…you're so defensive of the Epopts because they changed the course of your life at its darkest. You wonder where you would be without them – if you would had ever found another dream so powerful that it coursed within your very blood. You can't imagine what it must be like to move aimlessly and painfully through each day without purpose – not even feeling like you have control over your own destiny. You are sure it feels worse than death itself, even though you'd have no way of really knowing – it's just what you can feel within your soul. Right?_

"Listen..." Palom sighed, shoving his hands into his coat pockets – suddenly they felt so awkward and twitchy that he didn't know what to do with them. "You're probably a lot better off without any natural talent anyway. If you're a prodigy, then all that happens is you get lazy and quit pushing yourself to improve. You've worked hard your entire life…and it shows."

Leonora blinked, looking up at him, her eyes hazy with despondency. "Palom...?"

He shook his head. "I'm just saying, don't let yourself be satisfied with where you are now, okay? Anyway, let's head back. You've got an Epopt post to fill."

Leonora nodded thoughtfully. "...Okay."

"And…" Palom finally looked at her, feeling his throat tighten as his eyes found hers, "…You _should_ care what I – and others – say about you. And not just because you're an Epopt now. It's…" He cut himself off as Leonora stared expectantly. Even half-way across the world, he could hear Porom's shrill voice in his ear berating him for treating Leonora badly, and see the ever-present disappointment in her eyes – she had always been his living, breathing reflection, so he knew whatever he saw in her eyes were not only her sentiments, but his own as well. The thought of his twin simultaneously filled him with resentment and a yearning to be with the one person on this planet who truly understood him, even the things about him he _still_ couldn't bring himself to accept.

But when he looked into Leonora's eyes, strangely serene yet pulsing with sleeping power, he saw absolutely nothing mirrored from his twisted self within – and it was _glorious_. He ran his fingers through his hair, smiling slightly.

"…It's because if you don't respect yourself, how will you ever expect anyone else to?"

Leonora parted her lips as if to say something, but decided against it and pressed them back together. She glanced back at the plinth a final time, and let out a quiet sigh.

"Shall I Teleport us out of here?" she asked softly. Palom nodded, and she wordlessly took his arm, closing her eyes. They disappeared in a flash of light, and the tower's doors slammed shut behind them as they reappeared at the base of the steps that had previously led them inside.

* * *

The pair returned to Troia in silence, the occasional cooing of the chocobo the only noise that rose above the leaves and brush being crushed beneath the bird's feet as it sprinted back through the forest. With his task complete, Palom's mind had started to drift back to Baron's current state – or rather, the lack of knowledge about its current state. He wondered how soon Leonora would be briefed on the situation, and if she would be willing to spill the details. He figured a little bit of information was a fair trade for getting someone up to speed in the basics of black magic, but he doubted she felt that way, based on the silent treatment he was now getting.

 _I guess I didn't exactly apologize for my remarks about the Epopts, but…I thought I gave her a pretty good pep talk. I just don't get women._

At the castle, the pearly moonlight illuminated their path as Leonora led the way, heading straight for the Epopts' chamber with her head held high and a confidence in her gait that made her seem like an entirely new woman. The guards wordlessly opened the doors for the two of them, and Leonora and Palom stepped inside, interrupting the Epopts' chatter. The seven of them turned to stare at their guests, eyes wide.

"I have returned from the Tower of Trials," Leonora announced, sweeping into a curtsey. Palom stood to the side, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Ah, Leonora. You're back rather soon," the eldest Epopt curtseyed back to her quickly as she spoke. _Soon?!_ Palom thought. _It's nearly nightfall. How long were they expecting this to take!?_ "And the Monastic Seal...?"

"Yes," Leonora raised her right hand, like she was taking an oath. "I touched the tower's stone plinth with this very hand."

The other Epopts murmured among themselves as their de facto leader nodded. "Very good. I knew you had the right sort of potential within yourself."

Leonora turned toward Palom, and much to his surprise, offered a grateful smile. "No...it was all thanks to Palom." The Epopts smiled slightly and nodded to each other behind Leonora's back – like they had expected this outcome all along. Palom raised his eyebrows.

He thought back to his conversation with the Epopts before they had left, and how they had been "surprised" Palom couldn't train Leonora in white magic. _It seems that it wasn't just the Elder who had a plan by sending me here...no, the Epopts wanted a black mage all along. But why?!_

He smirked, stepping forward with his fingers laced behind his head. The Epopts' secretive reactions had piqued his interest in this little mission once again – he realized that depositing Leonora back at the castle as an officially-sanctioned Epopt wasn't quite the end of the road. He had done what everyone wanted – and now he wanted answers.

"Well, I should say so. If Porom were here instead of me, Leonora would've come back here in a coffin."

"Huh...?" Leonora blinked.

"What do you mean by that, Lord Palom?" another Epopt asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Her voice had taken on a low, warning tone that was just subtle enough for Palom to acknowledge and then conveniently ignore.

Palom shook his head, jabbing his finger accusingly toward the lot of them. "Why does the Tower of Trials have monsters and Guardians and all that inside? An Epopt candidate would never survive to reach the plinth without black magic. Did you knowingly send Leonora into a deathtrap?"

The Epopts said nothing in reply. Leonora looked between Palom and her country's leaders, dismay filling her features and draining her pale complexion of what little color she normally carried. He continued his line of questioning, his voice getting recklessly louder with each new word. "Why do the Epopts need black magic? Why does Troia need it, for that matter?"

The eldest Epopt sighed and held up her hand to silence him. " _Enough_ , Lord Palom. We Troians need a way to protect ourselves. It's as simple as that."

Palom shrugged. "What, are you saying your crystal might get swiped again?" The Epopt's lips curled into a tight sneer.

"There is always the possibility of that. We have reports from across the globe about a certain kingdom engaging in suspicious behavior. We decided to be proactive in our defenses this time around."

Palom shook his head. The idea of the crystals being stolen again was so ludicrous in this unprecedented era of peace that he almost had to laugh. "Oh? Which kingdom is that?"

The Epopt said nothing, and Leonora looked at Palom, pleading with her eyes for him to stop. He tilted his head, suddenly picking up on what the Epopt had said: _"…This time around"_.

"You don't mean..."

"Yes. We are speaking of Baron," the Epopt hissed, and Palom gasped.

"What!? You've got to be kidding me!"

The Epopt shook her head. "This is unfortunately the truth, Lord Palom." Leonora lowered her head, and Palom turned on his heel, glaring over his shoulder at the group of women.

"That's ridiculous...Cecil'd never do anything like that!"

Palom bolted out of the chamber, the doors slamming shut behind him. Leonora gasped, calling out after his retreating form.

"Palom...?"

But the doors didn't open again – he was long gone.

Leonora bit her lip, turning toward the Epopts. "Please excuse him. He must be tired from his long journey. It's my fault for giving him a great deal of trouble."

The eldest Epopt sighed. She knew full-well that wasn't the case – but she was not sure if Leonora quite understood the ramifications of what had just been said. She decided she was not the right person to explain to her – she would leave it up to Lord Palom, if he had not already left to do something foolish. The Elder had warned her that he was a bit of a firecracker, but she hadn't expected anything like this. "Leonora. I'm sure you are tired as well. Feel free to go. Take this time to rest your body."

Leonora nodded. She still had so many questions of her own, but she knew now was not the time to ask, and took the offer of rest for what it was – a dismissal. "...Yes. Thank you." She turned and fled the chamber, stopping to speak to the guards stationed outside.

"Did you see Lord Palom?" she asked, and they pointed toward a set of stairs that would take her to the eastern wing of the castle. Leonora thanked them, hurrying up the stairs and nearly running right past Palom, who had not gone very far at all. He was leaning over a balcony, his cheek resting against his hand as he stared up at the twin moons looking above. The sounds of babbling fountain water below and the soft, idle chatter of several guardswomen could be heard in the distance, and Leonora approached cautiously, her soft, feathery voice whispering unnervingly into Palom's ear as her eyes locked onto the moons too, a shudder wracking her form.

"Palom...I'm sorry."

He didn't turn around, but she saw him shift his weight. His body had pressed slightly back into hers, but she didn't step aside. "You don't need to apologize for anything. But, at least tell me how much you knew."

Leonora frowned. "But…I-I knew nothing."

"Oh yeah? Then why did you act so weird in the tower when I asked you why you wanted to learn black magic? No offense, but you're a terrible liar. Your entire body is practically a tell."

Leonora flushed, suddenly very conscious of how close Palom was to her, and took a step back. "I _wasn't_ lying. I just omitted a detail I didn't feel comfortable sharing with you." Palom laughed bitterly.

"Right. I guess the guy dragged into this mess with you has no right to know what is actually going on. Even the Elder kept me in the dark about why he sent me here. I'm just the tool that's the means to an end, right? It doesn't matter how I feel."

Leonora exhaled sharply. How did he always manage to find the sorest part of a wound and stick his finger right in it?

"Since you feel that way, I'll tell you the rest. It was true that I wanted more magical training – and it honestly didn't matter to me whether it was white or black magic. But apparently, one mattered more to the Epopts than the other. When they said they wanted to nominate me to fill the Epopt post because of my talents, they were merely referring to my potential to successfully cast black magic." She closed her eyes, her voice starting to shake as the bile rose in her throat. " _That_ is the only thing that seemingly distinguishes me from the other candidates. Even so, they never told me that I would need black magic to survive the Tower of Trials itself. With the eighth Epopt ill, perhaps they were desperate for me to start training to see if I truly had the capability they were seeking out – so they must have asked the Elder to send you instead of Porom."

Palom frowned. "That was it? You could have just told me that the Epopts _wanted_ you to learn it. I mean, that much was obvious from the first floor of the tower. No one without black magic would have made it to that plinth."

Leonora sniffled. "But you just said it yourself…that you were the tool that was the means to an end, right? That's how I feel as well – it's humiliating! Now I'll never know if I was nominated due to my dedication to the Epopts, or if it was just because they thought I had the potential to wield black magic. When you told me at the top of the tower that it was better not to have natural talent…for the first time, I thought for sure it _had_ been my tireless efforts that had gotten me this far…your words comforted me. But to hear with my own ears that Troia needs black magic to fight a war…now I'm back to not knowing what to think."

Palom draped his forearms over the balcony, folding his hands together. He couldn't believe what he was hearing – for the Epopts to have encouraged Leonora to learn black magic, but keep her in the dark about why she needed it for her future post – it was too cruel. Even though she had kept her head up throughout the Tower of Trials, he could still tell that she had been terrified and confused the entire time. He let out a tired sigh.

"It was _wrong_ of them to not tell you why you needed to learn black magic. Maybe the Epopts do need a way to protect themselves and the crystal. After all, there's no real reason why any nation should not have access to black magic if they have the responsibility of keeping a crystal safe – I can understand that. But I _refuse_ to believe what they said about Baron…or Cecil…"

Leonora blinked. "King Cecil…is a friend of yours?"

Palom shook his head. "Friend isn't really the right word. He…he changed Porom and I's lives. I _used_ to think it was for the worse…after we traveled the world with Cecil, Mysidia suddenly felt so small to me, and Porom started to get more and more serious – like she had grown-up overnight. But it took me a _really_ long time to realize that if it hadn't been for Cecil, I would have never met Sage Tellah, and I would have never started down the path I'm on – or at least, the path I'm trying to get on." He blew his hair out of his eyes, still staring ahead.

"And Cecil is like…the _one_ adult in my life who hasn't let me down yet. My parents are gone. The Elder…well, to keep things polite, I'll just say he and I don't see eye-to-eye on anything. I discovered long ago that my own twin sister doesn't believe in me. And Tellah…he's my hero, but…" Palom looked down at his hands – he hadn't realized they were shaking. "…I know now he was in a really dark way when he died. It's not something we'll ever be able to talk about…I'll never know the truth from his lips about what happened."

 _And without that, how will I be able to recognize if the same thing is happening to me now? The Elder, and Porom…I think they hate me too much after everything that has happened to ever help me if things start to go wrong…_

 _Oh, Palom…_ Leonora felt her lower lip quiver. _You are aching terribly inside, aren't you?_ _I guess even a prodigy can have problems magic can't solve._ She touched his shoulder, and was surprised to feel his muscles relax under her fingertips. She had no idea what to say – the words just started bubbling out. "Palom, I don't know King Cecil like you do, but…I am absolutely sure he would be happy to hear that you have such faith in him. And you must continue to preserve that faith even in times of doubt such as these. It sounds like he is as important to you as the Epopts are to me."

He continued to stare listlessly ahead, and Leonora wondered if he had even heard her – or maybe she had just spouted nonsense. "A-are you all right? Perhaps you're just tired, Palom. We should probably both get some rest..."

Finally, Palom stood up, and Leonora dropped her hand from his shoulder. "Yeah." He couldn't bring himself to spend the night on that damned ship – there was going to be plenty of that when he had to go back. Leonora gestured for him to follow her, and they left the balcony and climbed up another set of stairs, padding down a long, carpeted hallway.

Leonora pushed a door open, revealing a rather large room with several windows that had curtains drawn shut over all of them, and only a few candles were lit on the wall sconces. A set of beds with stark white sheets was lined up against the back wall, and despite the presence of a large bouquet of flowers, the air had a sterile, sharp antiseptic smell permeating it. It made Palom's nostrils burn as he breathed it in and gave him a headache.

"Here, feel free to use this room as you like," Leonora said, and Palom wrinkled his nose.

"Man, what's that smell?"

Leonora blinked. "Er…This is the castle's infirmary."

Palom looked around. In the corner, he could see a large, locked chest, which he imagined stored all sorts of dreadful medical instruments, and a desk piled with thick, boring-looking books. "Okay, that makes sense then. I guess you want to cure this filthy mouth of mine."

Leonora smiled slightly. "Troia Castle is usually off limits to men, so this was the only room I think would be appropriate. The rules have gotten a bit stricter in the past few years."

Palom shrugged. "No matter – a bed is a bed. You've got to be tired too by now. Get some sleep already."

"...All right." Leonora watched as Palom sat on one of the beds, bouncing around for a few moments before deeming it satisfying and kicking off his boots. He rolled himself into a tangled mess within the sheets and closed his eyes. She pressed her lips together, dithering in the threshold. "Um...I..."

Palom opened his eyes, looking at her. She was twisting a lock of hair around her finger, staring at the floor. Finally, she rested her hand on the door, pushing it back open.

"…Good night."

She slipped away, latching the door shut behind her. Palom closed his eyes again, alarmed by the hammering of his heart that he could hear pulsing within his ear. It was if someone was sitting next to him, banging a drum.

Outside the infirmary, Leonora closed her eyes, leaning against the rough stone wall behind her and turning her head so that her cheek pressed directly into the cool slab. _And...thank you, Palom._ She stood there for a few moments, trying to banish the fever that had crept beneath her skin.

As Palom drifted to sleep, he tried to shove thoughts about Tellah, the Elder, Porom…and even Leonora out of his head and completely clear his mental slate, but his mind was still racing a million miles a minute and crackling with intrigue about the Epopts' warnings about Baron. He had never been good at meditating – Porom had always been able to so easily fall into a trance when she needed to focus, and could never seem to teach him her secrets. He eventually chalked it up to her brain's default state of having nothing better to do than drift into oblivion, which made him feel slightly better even if it pissed her off when he told her so.

Palom rolled to his other side, simultaneously shivering and trying to find a cool patch in the bed that he hadn't yet imprinted with the searing heat of his body.

 _There was a time when Baron took away the crystals by force, no doubt about that...Cecil himself took the Water Crystal away from Mysidia, no less. But that was all the work of Golbez, in the end. And now Golbez is gone...he went away with the moon._

 _…Wait a second!_

* * *

Palom shot up in bed, his eyes wide as he gasped for air. He had felt like something heavy and cold had been trembling in his arms – but whatever it had been was only a dream, and he had awoken empty-handed. He reached over, roughly tugging at the nearest curtain that was hanging from the window over his bed. The sky was the bright blue with the promise of a new day, and the twin moons still hung stubbornly above – the new one even bigger than it had been last night. Palom was sure that in only a few days, it would eclipse the size of their normal moon – _that_ couldn't be good.

"The moon! That's it!" Palom hissed under his breath, kicking at the sheets he had trapped himself under until they fell into a crumpled heap on the floor. He bent over, hurriedly tugging his boots on and cursing as his fingers shook while trying to lace them.

 _I can't stay here anymore! I've got to get to Baron – I have no doubt of it now – Cecil is in danger!_ Palom finally tugged the laces taut and stood up, grabbing his rod from where he had deposited it next to the headboard. He was about to take hold of the door's latch when it flew open, causing him to scream in shock and leap a foot in the air. Standing before him was Leonora, her eyes wide and her chest heaving with labored breath. It was obvious she had gotten dressed in a hurry – her clothes were askew and her miter was already hanging half-way down her head. Locks of hair were hanging loose from her ponytail, like she had slept that way and hadn't bothered brushing it when she woke up.

"Palom...!" she cried, grasping his hands. He blinked, surprised at how his first emotion had been elation for getting to say good-bye to her, rather than annoyance of her getting in his way.

"What is it!?" Palom gasped, and Leonora looked away, biting her lip. He could feel her hands trembling in his, and noticed the dark circles that had overtaken her eyes.

"Ah...I'm sorry if I woke you up. I…You might not believe me about this, but..."

"What is it?" Palom asked again, trying to be gentle, but felt his normal abrasive edge starting to creep back into his tone. _Time is of the essence…! If I don't hurry…_

Leonora whimpered, finally forcing herself to look back up at him.

"The Crystal of Earth...It's _afraid_."


	11. Act Eleven: The Epopt's Tale

Act Eleven: The Epopt's Tale | The Forgotten

Palom clenched his jaw. "I knew it."

Leonora pressed her hands to her mouth. "You felt it too, Palom?"

He nodded. In his dream, had cold, foreign object in his arms been Crystal of Earth? He couldn't remember, but…it mattered not anymore. "Where is the crystal?"

"Beyond the Epopts' chamber."

"Let's go!"

Leonora and Palom left the infirmary, racing down the twisting tower stairs to reach the castle keep. Leonora clutched her skirts to keep from tripping as she tumbled downward, glancing back at Palom as they ran.

"You looked as if you had seen a ghost when I came in. Did something happen?"

"I-I had thought that perhaps I should get going, but…change of plans, right?"

Leonora smiled sadly, turning away and shoving herself against the massive double doors that stood between them and the Epopts. "I've brought Lord Palom with me!" she cried as the doors groaned open. The seven Epopts were present and accounted for, and each one had a matching mask of discontent on her face. Palom wished at that moment that he could be anywhere else in the world other than a closed chamber with seven distraught women – and Leonora, whom he now knew was the scariest of all when upset.

One of the Epopts came up to Palom, the corners of her eyes crinkled in concern. "Lord Palom, I'm afraid I have some distressing news. A number of airships from Baron are approaching Troia as we speak. Our lookouts just delivered the news moments before you two arrived."

"What!?" Palom cried. _This can't be happening…how could Baron have been assaulted by monsters and be out and about taking joyrides to invade their neighbors? Something isn't adding up!_

"It seems clear that their objective is the Earth Crystal we possess," another Epopt said, shaking her head. Leonora and Palom stared at each other, and Palom swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

"…So you want me to fight back against them?" he asked reluctantly. Leonora's eyes widened.

The Epopts shook their heads. "We are not asking that. We must wait to see what their next move is. If you want to escape…now is your best chance."

 _Thank the gods,_ Palom thought. _Because there is no way I would have been able to say yes – not without having seen Cecil myself to ask what is going on._

But he had also known the moment Leonora had burst into his room that he wasn't going to be able to run away, either – something inside of him had put the brakes on that as soon as he had seen the tormented look in her eyes. He crossed his arms. "Look... you're underestimating what Baron could do. Let me keep the crystal for you."

Leonora pressed her palm to her chest. "Palom!? What…what are you saying?!"

"What are you going to do with the crystal?" the Epopt who had delivered the bad news about Baron asked. Palom could tell by the arch of her brow that she was already suspicious.

"I'm not going to do _anything_ with it. Just do not engage Baron's soldiers, okay? Tell them some bandit stole the crystal or something."

The Epopts all looked at each other. _Yeah, like that was really going to work again._ "But..."

"I'm going with you!" Leonora declared, and Palom frowned.

"You'd just get in my way."

Leonora raised her chin obstinately, her cheeks still flushed pink from all of the running they had done.

"I am an Epopt who serves the Earth Crystal. I know I don't have much experience, but...but still! I have a duty to fulfill! A duty to protect the crystal!"

Palom sighed. "You've said it now..."

The Epopts were murmuring amongst themselves, and the one closest to Leonora rested her hand upon her shoulder. "Very well. Leonora, we will entrust the crystal to you."

Leonora's eyes widened – she hadn't believed anyone would have actually taken heed of her reasoning. She nodded, reaching up to straighten her miter. "I will make sure it is safe!" She gestured for Palom to follow her, and crossed through the Epopt chamber, making a beeline for a beautifully decorated door that Palom had originally just mistaken for a panel of gaudy, bejeweled wallpaper. The Epopts watched warily as Leonora groaned from the door's weight, sliding it open just enough so that she and Palom could slip through to the other side.

Inside was a resplendent crystal chamber, just like the one Palom knew so well from Mysidia – and it also looked just like the crystal chambers he had visited in Damcyan and the Sealed Cave when he was a child. Their footsteps echoed against the glass, mirrored floors as they approached the dais, at the top of which was the deep blue Crystal of Earth, spilling upon them the reflections of the dazzling light from throughout the chamber.

"I will go get the crystal," Leonora said, and Palom nodded, watching as she carefully climbed up the steps of the dais and reached out to grab it. He stared up at himself in the ceiling, which was also made of mirrors – noting how much paler than usual he looked, and realizing he had the same dark circles under his eyes as Leonora. His braid hung limply over his shoulder, half-undone, and his bangs had been smashed by what must have been constant tossing and turning in bed – he had definitely had better days.

 _I wonder how all of the crystal chambers got to be the same?_ he mused. _The crystals are spread all over the planet – both on the surface world and underground…and yet somehow, every realm has managed to build an identical shrine for each one. There are even shrines in the Underworld that were never inhabited by humans or dwarves. How could that have possibly come about?_

Leonora had stepped back down from the pillar, the crystal tucked under her arm. "We need to hurry."

Palom snapped out of his daydream, and Leonora began to make her way back to the Epopts' chamber. A chill zipped down Palom's spine, and he swore that he heard a pair of new footsteps making their way toward them. He grabbed Leonora's sleeve and jerked her back so hard that she fell into his chest.

"Stop! Not that way!" Palom hissed, and Leonora blinked, clutching the crystal as she looked up at him.

"What?"

He responded by clasping his hand over her mouth, slowly dragging her to a spot in the crystal chamber where they could just see out the sliver of open doorway they had left in their wake. Leonora felt her hot breath hit her face as she exhaled into Palom's fingers, and felt as if her knees had taken on the consistency of the Red Mousse they had fought in the Tower of Trials – it was a good thing he was holding her aloft.

A new figure had entered the Epopt chamber unannounced. From the distance, Palom could see it was a young woman, but beyond the turquoise hair that spilled down her shoulders in shiny waves and the white, practically see-through gown that was hanging from her bare shoulders, he couldn't make out many more of her features. Her bare feet softly smacked against the tiled floor that was not protected by silken throw rugs, and her face was completely devoid of emotion as she approached the Epopts – Palom couldn't tell if she was happy, sad, or seriously pissed off.

"Where is the Earth Crystal?" the new arrival asked, her voice as piercing as the strike tone of the bell in a church tower. Palom noticed there was no emotion in her words, either – they were as empty and blank as her face.

"What purpose do you have for the Earth Crystal?" they heard one of the Epopts ask.

"Is there a reason why I must tell you?" the girl replied, and the Epopts glanced at each other confusedly.

"The Earth Crystal is a symbol of Troia itself. I'm afraid we cannot simply give it up to someone so easily. Is this what Cecil, the king of Baron, has in mind?"

At the mention of Cecil's name, both Leonora and Palom inhaled quietly, and the girl gave the smallest crack of a smile – it was more like a twitch in the corner of her mouth.

"I have no need to answer to an inferior species."

"Inferior species!?" an Epopt barked. "Are you _trying_ to insult us!?"

The girl shrugged, looking around as if she was noticing for the first time that there were seven of them, and only one of her. Her immediate reaction appeared to be…boredom. "I am not here to argue with you. _Where is the crystal?_ "

"We're too late," Palom whispered in Leonora's ear. "There's no place to run!"

Leonora reached up with one hand, tugging away Palom's fingers and whispering back. "...This way!" He slowly released her, and she turned, still clutching the Earth Crystal for dear life as she tiptoed to the northeastern corner of the chamber. Kneeling on the floor, she dug her fingers under one of the floor tiles, pressing her lips together as she felt around for a few seconds. Finally, a distinct "click" could be heard, and the tile loosened, revealing itself to be a trap door.

"A hidden passage!?" Palom gasped. Leonora nodded, still speaking in a whisper.

"The Epopts built this escape route in case anything like this ever happened."

Palom was thoroughly impressed. Even Mysidia didn't have anything like that. "They thought of everything, didn't they?"

He let Leonora go down first, taking the Crystal of Earth from her hands so she could slide down the ladder that was waiting below. When he heard her feet hit the floor, he gently tossed the crystal down, watching her catch it in her arms clumsily like an oversized loaf of bread. He then followed, reaching up and quietly shifting the panel back in place before sliding down the ladder himself. He landed on the stone floor beneath, now in a long hallway that was dimly lit with candles but otherwise unoccupied. The air was mercifully cool, but tasted and smelled stale – like a basement.

"I'm sure it won't be long before they find this passageway," Leonora said, relieved that she could at least use her normal tone of voice again.

"Then we'll just have to run as far as we can before that happens," Palom shrugged. "So where's this path lead to?"

"It runs underground to an exit near the castle entrance."

"Well, that's nothing I haven't dealt with before," Palom said, thinking of the ancient waterway he had once had to slough through with Cecil, Tellah, Yang and Porom to break into Baron Castle when Golbez had taken over. "Let's keep moving until we get out."

"Just one moment," Leonora said, handing him the crystal and reaching up to her shoulders to pull off her ivory stole. She fashioned it into a sling, taking the crystal back from Palom and wrapping it up in the stole before tying it over one of her shoulders, like a sash Palom would see mothers in the village carry their babies in. "There…now I have both my hands free in case we run into monsters."

"I'm afraid there will probably not be an "in case"," Palom frowned. "If it's an underground passage that isn't used very often, there's going to be some beasts who have decided to make it their new home."

Leonora bit her lip, but then looked back up at Palom and smiled weakly.

"Ah well…I guess I'll just consider it more training!"

Palom watched her as she bravely marched forward, one hand protectively covering the sling hanging over her chest as she took a long, shaking breath, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "Crystal of Earth, please bestow your blessings upon us, your humble servants…! I will do whatever it takes to keep the peace in Troia..."

Palom followed behind, watching her ponytail bounce against the silky sheen of her back. _Leonora…No matter what you may think, this is why the Epopts chose you._

The underground passage was even more reminiscent of Baron than Palom had anticipated. He had secretly hoped that they just needed to go slumming through some old basement tunnels and maybe kill a giant rat or two, but when they finally exited the castle proper and arrived in the depths, his optimism for the ease of their escape plummeted. The two mages were greeted by a twisted mess of bridges and rocky footpaths that rose above a constant current of frothy green and brown water. In addition to the roar of the water's flow echoing against the slick, slimy catacomb walls, Palom could also detect the croaks and whistles of plenty of nasties that were probably waiting beneath the surface of the rancid water for some fresh prey.

"My word, it's a waterway," Leonora gasped. "Why does it look so…"

"…Gross?" Palom interrupted. "It's probably Troia's sewer system."

"Irk…" Leonora raised a droopy sleeve to her face, wincing. "It certainly _smell_ s like a sewer, now that you mention it."

"We'll stay out of the water as much as we can manage," Palom offered. "But considering this place doesn't look like it's been kept up too well, I have a feeling some rotting bridges are in our future."

"Can't you use a Blizzaga spell to perhaps turn it into a skating rink?" Leonora smiled. Palom laughed, shaking his head. The laughter sounded foreign coming out of his own mouth, but it had calmed some of the nerves he had been too rushed to acknowledge until now.

"Nice try, but even I can't do that. But speaking of Blizzard…let's talk about the kind of monsters you'd find in a place like this. Consider this part two of your training – and don't think I'm going to go easy on you just because you somehow managed to become an Epopt. Now, cave-dwellers all generally have the same elemental weaknesses…"

"Fire?" Leonora asked hopefully, and Palom shook his head, groaning.

"No! I _just_ gave you a hint. Get it together, or I'll let you figure it out on your own when something attacks you."

"Er, p-please don't glare at me like that…I'll do my best…"

* * *

It was afternoon when Palom and Leonora finally emerged from underneath Troia Castle, unscathed but exhausted and drenched from the last leg of their journey, which had unfortunately consisted of a surprise attack from a family of Giga Toads that had grabbed them unawares with their tongues and pulled them into the water.

Palom hauled himself up the final flight of stairs that took them over the moat of the castle via a hidden walkway that had appeared to just be a solid wall if you were standing on the drawbridge. The clear blue water below was such a stark contrast to what they had just been forced to swim in that he was tempted to throw himself into the moat and stay submerged until every trace of filth left his body. Instead, he reached up to wring out his braid as Leonora stumbled out behind him, grimly pulling off her miter and making a disgusted face as she tilted it upside down, a gush of brown water spilling out. "Any pursuers?" she asked softly.

Palom raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glaring sun, and spotted the same two guards he had met the day before still holding their post. "No. _If_ anyone else came with that girl, it looks like they're still in the castle. The guards at the entrance look unperturbed – and I don't see any airships."

Leonora chewed her lip anxiously. "What about the Epopts?"

He turned to her, shaking his head. "They aren't stupid, you know. I'm sure they won't do anything to escalate the situation."

Leonora looked away, placing the wilted miter back on her head and fastening it with a loud click of her hairpin. She looked utterly defeated – between her soaking wet robes swallowing her petite form and the sorrowful pout that was etched into her features, she looked one setback away from throwing herself in front of a stampede of chocobos. Palom sighed, giving her ponytail a feeble tug – they didn't have time to start feeling sorry for themselves now. She yelped in surprise, glaring up at him as she smacked his hand away and kept it raised should he try anything else stupid.

"You respect them, don't you?" Palom asked, and Leonora blinked, her fingers curling as she dropped her hand to her waist. She hadn't expected the quiet, almost genial intonation of his words.

"Yes..."

"So _have faith_ in them."

Leonora smiled slightly, feeling as if she had just stepped into a sunbeam. So...did that mean Palom _had_ been listening to her on the balcony last night? She reassuringly patted the crystal strapped to her chest, lifting her eyes to his. "...I will do that."

Palom whirled around embarrassedly, scratching the back of his head as he felt his stomach flip-flop. _What the hell was up with this girl?_ He cleared his throat, motioning toward the opposite end of the drawbridge.

"Come on. We need to leave the castle before anyone catches us."

Fearing that running would only draw attention to them, the two instead settled for an inelegant power-walk, fleeing the castle grounds and not looking back until they had reached a distant meadow that brought them to the edge of one of Troia's many massive forests.

"So where's a good place for us to run to?" Palom asked, and Leonora gazed down at the crystal, pressing her lips together. It was only after a few minutes that she finally replied, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

"How about the Lodestone Cavern? We'll have a way to keep the pursuers at bay there."

Palom shrugged. He had never heard of it, but it sounded like she had an idea – he had no other choice but to trust her. "Where is that?"

"It lies northeast of Troia. The journey can be made by black chocobo from the northern reaches of what we call the Chocobo Village."

"Sounds like a plan," Palom nodded. "I'll take point and take care of anything that gets in our way. You protect the crystal – no matter what."

They made their way north, their footsteps dampened by the blankets of pine needles and overgrown greenery on the forest floors as they cut through. Every time a twig so much as snapped, Leonora would whirl around to see if they were being followed, and Palom would ready a Bio spell underneath his breath. As the sun traveled further across the sky, long, draping shadows began to dance within the forest, sending their paranoia skyrocketing to greater heights.

A musky, sulfuric smell drifted past Leonora, and when she looked up, she saw the familiar curved dirt path that was lined with multiple sets of pronged claws dug between some of the trees – they were almost to Chocobo Village.

"Palom!" Leonora whispered. "There are definitely chocobos here! Can you smell them?"

Palom inhaled deeply without looking at Leonora, his nose wrinkling. "Ugh…yeah. That's…fresh."

"There must be a good number of them around," Leonora said eagerly. "Let's hope one of them can fly us out of here!" She bolted forward on the path, disappearing between the trees. Palom huffed and resisted calling out for her, instead breaking into a run to catch up.

Palom burst into a clearing, nearly tripping over a massive nest of broken branches, decaying greens, and bright, shiny white chocobo eggs the size of a child's head. Deeper within, in a sun-dappled throng of golden and white-feathered birds, was Leonora, smiling happily as they nuzzled her with their beaks and squawked anxiously.

"Hold on, I have enough for everyone!" Leonora exclaimed, reaching into her pockets and pulling out a satchel of berries tied with a delicate blue ribbon. She plucked one out at a time, holding it in her hand and letting a chocobo snatch it away while another one stepped in to take its place. She looked up at Palom excitedly. "I think the chocobos smelled these on me…" She was interrupted when a white chocobo head-butted her impatiently. She plucked out another berry and held it in her palm, offering it to the bird.

"None of these chocobos look black to me," Palom frowned. Leonora's smile faded as she lowered her hand.

"Well, this is a fairly large forest…we'll surely find one somewhere."

"This isn't the time to frolic," Palom lectured, turning and shoving his way through what appeared to be two hearty juniper bushes. Leonora watched him go despondently, ignoring the white chocobo that had started head-butting her again. As he cut through the bushes, his feet stumbled over something warm and oafish, the branches of the bushes scratching at his face and eyes as he went flying face-first over the surprise roadblock.

"Ugh!" Palom groaned, spitting out pine needles and twisting around so that he could yank his legs down from whatever had tripped him up. The crowns of the trees surrounding him completely blocked any traces of sunlight, plunging him into total darkness. He nearly cried out when he saw two large, glaring blue eyes staring straight at him from the depths of the shadows, and felt a rush of sour, sticky breath smack his face. As the eyes floated upward in the darkness, looming over his fallen form, Palom bit his lip and tried to scuttle back on his rear to put as much distance between himself and the beast as possible. He could just barely detect it, but a monster's stench was wafting in the air…a fishy, rotten smell, like garbage left sitting out in the sun.

"Palom! Are you OK?"

"Y-Yeah…!" Palom stammered. "Don't come back here…!"

But it was too late – Leonora had parted the bushes and peered over, her eyes wide as they fell upon the creature Palom had tripped over.

"Thank the gods! You found a black chocobo!"

"What!?" Palom grimaced, having to halt himself just as he was about to let a Thunder spell loose. Leonora stuck her hand through the bushes, offering up a berry. The orb-like eyes turned away from Palom and blinked in Leonora's direction, gobbling up the treat and squawking for more.

"Fire!" Palom called, and a small flame burst to life in his open palm. Holding his hand up, he could see that he had indeed fallen over the abdomen of a massive chocobo – it had to have been at least twice the size of its largest brethren in the clearing just beyond the juniper. Its neck was so long that it hadn't even needed to stand to reach Leonora's hand – it was still sitting on its haunches, with tail feathers twitching irritably while she frantically reached into the satchel to secure another berry.

"You were almost fried chocobo, you big jerk," Palom glowered, blowing out the flame. "What are you doing loafing about here while all your little friends are getting snacks, anyway?"

"WHARK!" the chocobo snorted, cutting Palom a side-eye as it greedily pecked at the berries Leonora presented. Leonora laughed and shook her head.

"Oh Palom, you're so…"

"There they are! After them!"

A disgruntled voice could be heard from the clearing, followed by thundering footsteps – Leonora gasped and dropped the satchel, berries spilling over the black chocobo's form as a pair of gauntlet-clad hands wrapped around her waist and ripped her away from the bushes.

"Leonora!" Palom cried, scrambling to his feet. Her screams ripped through the forest as he leapt onto the chocobo's back, vigorously kicking its side and nearly crying with relief as it rose and dutifully abandoned the snacks that had been let loose over the forest floor.

"After her!" Palom begged, and the chocobo squawked, bursting through the bushes with such a violent burst of speed that Palom nearly tumbled backwards. As he clutched tighter to the bird's neck, it began to gallop through the clearing that acted as the entrance to Chocobo Village, and he could spot Leonora being dragged away by a group of Baronian soldiers – dragoons, from the look of their uniforms. She had been tossed over someone's shoulder, one hand desperately clutching the crystal and the other beating relentlessly on the soldier's back. Despite all of the commotion she was causing, none of the soldiers tried to sedate her or even looked at each other – it was extremely unnerving the way they just continued to march in silence, eyes locked straight-ahead.

 _Something isn't right with these guys…_ Palom gritted his teeth. _That horrible smell from before – was it them? Has Baron's soldiers been turned into monsters again!?_

"Palom!" Leonora cried, reaching out toward him. Palom kicked the chocobo harder, and it spurred forward right as she clenched her eyes shut and let out an ear-piercing wail.

"POISON!"

The soldier holding Leonora began to seize and gag, dropping her as unceremoniously as a sack of grain. Leonora rolled to the ground with outstretched arms, and Palom reached down to scoop her up as the soldier fell to his knees, face purple, bloated and shining with sweat. The other soldiers that had been walking ahead only noticed when it was too late – the chocobo burst past them and began to spread its wings, its feet lifting from the ground. Moments later, the three of them were gliding in mid-air, breaking through the canopy of trees and soaring northeast toward the open sea.

"Thank you!" Leonora cried, pressing her forehead to Palom's back as she sobbed and snaked her arms around his waist. He could feel the Crystal of Earth pressing into his spine painfully, but didn't pull away. "It was so sudden – I didn't know what to do!"

"You seemed to be just fine on your own," Palom blinked, glancing back at her. "And since when do you know the _Poison_ black magic spell?!"

"I…" Leonora shook her head, still clinging to him. "I-It just came to me…I was just picturing something – anything – happening to him so that he would let me go…" she sniffled. "But I didn't mean to poison him…"

"Oh jeeze…" Palom shook his head. "Listen, don't worry about it. Those guys…they weren't human."

"What…?" Leonora blinked, lifting her head. Her eyes were watery and red, and snot was dripping from her nose. "Are you sure? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"I don't tell people things just to make them feel better," Palom offered dryly, and looked away, the tips of ears turning red as he unraveled his scarf and held it out. "I don't have a handkerchief…you can have this. You're a mess."

"Irk…" Leonora sniffled and took it, wrapping it around her neck once so that it didn't fly away in the breeze and then pressing one of the ends to her running nose, mumbling against the soft fabric. "Thank you…"

Palom leaned in, giving the chocobo a gentle nudge with his foot. "Hey, you know where you're going, right chocobo? We need to head to the Lodestone Cavern." The bird ruffled its feathers and snorted, which Palom hoped meant "Aye-aye, captain".

A shrieking whistle ripped through the air, and next came the explosion – it burst a couple of yards above their heads, and Palom could feel the burning sting of dying flares rain upon his scalp. Leonora looked behind her shoulder, her fingers digging deeper into his hips.

"An airship from Baron is right behind us!"

"Damn, they found us!" Another explosion rang out, this one much closer, and Leonora murmured a Protect spell that wrapped them in a temporary shield of golden light. Palom clung tighter to the chocobo, which was starting to squawk nervously and lose altitude – but there was nowhere for them to make a landing except for the middle of the ocean. "Hang on, you crazy bird – you've got to get us to land first!"

Leonora bit her lip as she kept an eye on their pursuers, trying to focus her efforts on striking the oncoming cannon fire with her magic so that it would burn out before reaching them. Palom laughed bitterly as he tried to soothe the stressing bird with uneven, shaky strokes of his hand. "Are those idiots actually trying to hit us!? What are they thinking!?"

"King Cecil wouldn't possibly do this, right?" Leonora whimpered between spells, and Palom shook his head.

" _No way_ – these aren't his men. The Red Wings would never stoop so low…"

"But they sure _look_ like the Red Wings…" Leonora trailed off. Palom briefly flashed back to the day Mysidia had been invaded by Baron – the Red Wing soldiers responsible for the slaughter of the mages who defended the crystal that day had been human – as human as their captain, Cecil Harvey. He stared into his lap, his breath caught in his throat.

 _He was acting under orders that time…there is no way he would do this on his own…right?_

A few harrowing minutes later, a stretch of green could finally be seen in the rapidly-fading sunlight – it was a small island, mostly saturated in forest save for the mountains that lined its border. The black chocobo had needed no encouragement – it practically took a nose-dive as soon as the island came into view, and Leonora and Palom clung on for dear life, their hair whipping behind them and their stomachs leaping into their throats. The oncoming darkness had become a boon – they were a small target to begin with, but they had begun to blend into the sky with their ebony steed and became even harder for the Red Wings to lock onto. The rotors of the airships and the blitz of canon fire faded away as the very tops of the trees of a shadow-draped forest started to come into clearer focus, and soon the chocobo had broken through and dizzily wove through a maze of outstretched branches before spotting a clearing and settling in for a landing.

Leonora and Palom climbed off of the chocobo, pausing to listen for footsteps or the sound of airships from above. Palom knew that even the Red Wings – if it really _was_ Baron's elite air force controlling those ships – would have difficulty landing in a forest as dense as this. But for all he knew, they might just be willing enough to set the whole island aflame to hunt them down, considering the effort that had been expended for one measly crystal so far. Leonora hugged the black chocobo's neck, letting out a shaky sigh.

"Thank you, chocobo! You need to get out of here, now!"

The black chocobo nuzzled Leonora's cheek and turned away, sprinting into the depths of the forest. Leonora and Palom stared after it until it had disappeared, and then turned to each other.

"Do you know where we are?" Palom asked. Leonora nodded.

"This way!"

Breaking free from the confines of the forest, they found themselves at the base of the mountain range they had spotted from the sky. The mouth of a cavern was only a few yards away, and Leonora pointed toward it, beaming.

"This is it – the Lodestone Cavern," she looked Palom up and down. "When we get to the entrance, do not go any further. Got it?"

"Uh…OK," Palom shrugged.

When they reached the entrance, Palom suddenly felt as if his head weighed a thousand pounds – like someone had dropped a cloak made of lead upon him. He groaned, massaging his temples and gritting his teeth from the effort. Even just reaching up to do that ached terribly – like every muscle in his body was strained under enormous pressure.

"Ugh…what is wrong with me…?"

"Here…" Leonora reached up, gently unfastening Palom's mythril headband and sliding it away from his forehead, her hands brushing past his bangs. Next, she reached for his accompanying shoulder guard, and he watched her fingers deftly work through the leather straps to unweave them from his coat, not understanding why it felt as if his heart was about to burst.

As she silently stepped away with his accessories in-hand, he realized that the sudden weight in his head and around his shoulders had disappeared. As if to demonstrate, Leonora casually tossed his headband into the entrance of the cave. Palom watched with amazement as the headband came down in a straight line instead of the curved trajectory of a toss, clinging to the floor of the cavern and not bouncing even an inch from the force of the fall.

Palom blinked. "Whoa-ho! That is a serious magnetic field!"

Leonora nodded. "Any who draw near donning armor of plate and chain become unable to move." She dropped his shoulder guard and reached up to her own hair, unclipping her hairpin and reluctantly setting it down at her feet. Her miter tipped a bit as she stood back up, but she didn't each up to adjust it. Instead, her hands embraced the crystal once more.

Palom pressed his lips together in thought. "I see. So, that is why the soldiers will be unable to follow us."

"Yes, that's the plan."

Palom started toward the entrance of the Lodestone Cavern. "Well then, you ought to start back to Troia. Hand over the crystal, and I'll take things from here."

Leonora blinked. "What!?"

Palom ignored her as he stepped inside to survey his new surroundings. The cavern wasn't anything special other than the obvious magnetic field – it was otherwise dark, dank, and freezing cold. It didn't look terribly deep, but he had the unpleasant feeling that something nasty was waiting inside – it was best at this point to solo it so that he didn't have to risk anything else happening to Leonora. The scare in the Chocobo Village had provided enough impromptu training – and as far as he was concerned, his mission would only be considered complete if he not only got an Epopt ordained, but kept her alive as well. Surely the Elder wouldn't fault him for that rationale if he ever made it out of this mess?

Palom approached the first rope bridge that would take him across a crooked ravine, and paused. "Look, things are getting serious here. This is nothing like your training before."

Leonora's jaw dropped, and she shuddered with rage. "If you _really_ believe that, then you can say it to my face, Palom." She marched forward, planting herself in front of him on the bridge and narrowing her eyes, her palms protectively pressed against the crystal. "I'm ready for _whatever_ comes my way! Besides, you're going to need my white magic!" She tilted her head to try to catch his gaze, but he refused to look at her, his hair falling over his face.

Palom stared down at his feet. _Unbelievable – she's just like Porom. Which means I'll never win, not in a million lifetimes._

"...Is there a written rule somewhere that says all white mages have to be so stubborn?"

Leonora snorted. "What was that?"

"…Nothing."

"That's what I thought," she smiled. "Anyway, you wouldn't have gotten too far without me."

"Yeah, yeah," Palom rolled his eyes, gently pushing her out of the way as he moved forward. "Keep up, or else I'm going to fail you."

"You can't fail me – I'm already an Epopt!"

"Maybe so, but until this is over, you're still my student."

* * *

It was some time later that the two mages found themselves at an impasse. Leonora was standing a few feet away from Palom, wearing a secret smile as she watched his frustration slowly blossom. At first, he had just looked confused, the usual frown twisted on his lips as a sudden bout of fog ushered in upon them, completely blanketing their path in a sea of white mist as they attempted to cross yet another ravine. Beyond this particular bridge there was a suspicious door that appeared to have once been hastily nailed to the cavern walls, and was now just half hanging-off. It was crudely fashioned by either an untalented man or a careless beast, furnished with rusty slabs of metal that appeared to have been fished out of an industrial accident, broken screws that stuck out of seams, and rotten planks of wood that had been layered on top of where rust had eaten its way through the original materials.

As soon as they stepped upon the bridge, the fog would swirl about, blinding them so thoroughly that they needed to retreat for fear of neither of them remembering the exact condition of the bridge and if it _really_ would get them all the way across. As they stepped backwards, the fog began to recede – but it washed over them once more as soon as they dared to go forward again.

Palom didn't notice that Leonora hadn't said a word the entire time. He next tried running across the bridge, but the fog not only raced him and won, but also formed a barrier that he smacked into with a howl and a string of curses. Next, he tried burning the fog away with a Fire spell, freezing it with a Blizzard spell, and finally trying to split open a path with a Thunder spell. With each failed attempt, his face became redder and redder, and Leonora finally decided she had had enough fun when it looked as if his head was going to use his shoulders as a launch pad and explode into space.

Palom threw his hands in the air, letting out an even more explicit curse that made her blush deeply. "What the...!?"

"This is a deception put up by the Epopts," she finally said, and he whirled around, his jaw clenched. She smiled, wagging her finger. "You didn't believe me before when I said you wouldn't have gotten far without me, huh? Consider this a lesson in teamwork. Or humility – either one is appropriate."

"Teamwork!" Palom spat. "I bet you think you're hilarious, huh? So where's the _real_ path?"

"This way!" Leonora chirped, and gestured for Palom to follow her. He nearly cried out as she appeared to step over a ledge to their left – but instead of plummeting to the darkness below, she stood as sure as someone on solid ground. Waltzing over the invisible path, she crossed to another waiting rocky platform and waved.

"Come! Don't worry about falling off the path – there are walls to keep you in place."

Palom hesitantly lifted his foot over the darkness, his fists clenched to his sides as he slowly lowered it onto the path Leonora had revealed. Relief flooded his features when he felt his boot hit solid ground, and he quickly crossed over in a half-run that made Leonora giggle behind her hand.

"Aha..." Palom glanced back at the ravine. "That really messes with you. How could you just cross that like it was nothing?"

"It's been a while since you've been challenged like that, hasn't it?" Leonora smiled, not bothering to answer his question. He stared at her as she turned away and started crossing into the passage before them, her voice echoing softly as she disappeared into the darkness. "This will take us to the other side, and then we'll be in the safety of the crystal chamber. We can rest and make a plan there."

Upon reaching the other side, they heard a terrible pounding shatter the stillness of the stale cavern air and a chorus of furious voices shout from the other side of the bridge.

"...There they are!"

Leonora and Palom whirled around just in time to see a company of Baronian soldiers burst from one of the tunnels they had traveled through earlier, pointing across the ravine toward the two of them and shouting unintelligible orders amongst themselves. Leonora stood frozen in place as they ran across the cavern and attempted to cross the bridge directly in front of them, only to be stymied by the fog that rolled in once more.

"Palom...!" she gasped.

"They must have taken off their equipment!" Palom cursed, grabbing Leonora's hand and tugging open the disaster of a door in front of them. It let out a protesting shriek, but miraculously stayed on the remaining hinges it had left. "Let's go before they figure out how to make the fog clear!"

Sliding inside the crystal chamber, Palom shut the door behind them, pressing his weight against it as he closed his eyes and urged himself to think. Leonora ran to the crystal dais that looked just like the one in Troia Castle, unbundling the crystal from its sling and holding it aloft. There was a soft flash of light, and the crystal floated above the dais, glimmering with restored luminesce as it silently shed its light once again. Leonora groaned and let herself collapse on the steps of the dais, gasping for breath as she pulled her knees to her chest.

Palom tried to listen for noises outside, but feared that the lack of commotion meant that the soldiers were either scheming up something, or had figured out where there was a hidden path. Either way, it was only a matter of time now. He sighed, sliding down the door until his rear hit the floor, and cradling his head in his hands. "Guess this it is for us."

"What?" Leonora peered up at him from over her knees, a bridge of pink streaked over her nose and cheeks.

Palom laughed quietly. "Think about it. How many soldiers are after us? We don't have infinite magic, you know. If they storm us with their superior numbers, we'll surely run out of energy sooner or later."

Leonora blinked, clutching her legs tighter and shaking her head. "No…!"

"We've gotta face the facts," Palom frowned, closing his eyes. "How long can we keep running?"

Leonora stood up, clamoring down the steps of the crystal dais, her voice quivering. "This is not like you..."

Palom opened one eye, staring up at her. She was drawn to her full height, her cheeks stained with streaks of tears that had blazed a trail through the dust and filth on her face, her lips freshly chapped and dotted with blood from gnashing them with her teeth. "Huh?"

"This is not like you at all!" Leonora insisted, another clump of hair slipping out of her ponytail as she took a step forward.

Palom closed his eye dismissively, turning away. "And what could you possibly know about me!? Don't think that only after two hellish days that you could even begin to know what you are talking about. You're still the same naïve girl who stumbled wide-eyed into the Epopts' chamber yesterday morning. The only difference now is that you have a fancy title."

Leonora paused mid-step, her fingers clutching at the green and white scarf still wrapped around her neck that had become yet-further stained with tears. A strangled cry escaped her throat as Palom suddenly lifted his head and stared past her, leaping to his feet. The crystal had begun to seize with a blinding light so painfully bright that he feared Leonora would be swallowed hole.

"Leonora! Get back!"

Leonora gasped as pulled her against him, her pupils narrowing to pinholes as a shadowy figure emerged from the center of the dais, bathed in the crystal's essence. A warbling, screechy voice filled the chamber, making the downy hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up.

"Yes...My prison has been unlocked..!"

The figure lumbered down the stairs, and both Leonora and Palom had to keep themselves from openly retching. It was a blue-skinned beast with knobbed joints holding together lanky, overgrown appendages, swollen knuckles dragging down each step and razor-filed, rotting black fingernails scratching over the mirrored tiles. A shock of white hair was growing from its lumpy head, a twisted, many-times broken nose hanging like a gnarled tree branch between closely-set lolling yellow eyes. A mishmash of yellow and green teeth made up its mouth, with a slimy pink tongue dangling out, speckled with white film.

"What the hell is that!?" Palom bellowed, and Leonora shook her head in disbelief.

"It looks like the Dark Elf that used to occupy this cave! But I thought the Epopts said he had been slain long ago…!"

The creature shook his head, his tongue flopping limply as it snickered. "I simply lost my body in the previous battle. Nothing more. But the crystal has given me physical form once again! That horrifying noise is also gone...This time, I will finally acquire eternal life!"

"What noise?" Palom blinked, and Leonora tugged him closer, thrusting her other hand in the air.

"Never mind that! Look out!"

She cast Reflect just as the Dark Elf cast a volley of Blizzara, Thundara and Fira spells on them, the magic bouncing off the rainbow light that had embraced their bodies and throwing his spells back at him two-fold. The elf screeched as he was thrown onto the top of the dais, his flesh festering and blistering apart as he tossed about agonizingly under the crystal's dazzling light.

"ARRRGH! This form no longer suffices!"

A sickening popping noise rang out as the elf's flesh began to tear, revealing rust-brown scales oozing with blood and oil. The elf screamed as he tumbled down the stairs, curling into a ball and emitting a rotten-smelling, pale black mist from his pores. Still clinging to each other, Palom and Leonora took a few steps back, eyes wide as a slinky, slime-drenched dragon emerged from the mist, coiling into a tower upon the dais and releasing a roar so powerful that the entire chamber shook beneath their feet.

"Bio!" Palom cried, summoning a nauseous green ball of gas that drifted in from the between the floor tiles, swirling about the dragon's form. The dragon inhaled deeply, sucking up the fumes of the spell and ejecting them in one magnificent spew of fire that reached the ceiling of the cavern, the flames tinged with a green core. Chunks of the ceiling tore apart under the pressure of the flame and began to spill down, narrowly missing Palom and Leonora by mere inches.

Leonora took a step back warily. "Palom…! Did it just absorb your spell?"

"Magic doesn't work!?" Palom gazed down at his hands, which he was startled to see were shaking frenziedly. "But why…?" _There's nowhere to run! If we leave the crystal chamber, we'll be slaughtered by Baron's soldiers!_

The door behind them suddenly slammed open, a rush of arctic wind blasting through the chamber and blowing up Leonora's skirts. Exquisite, glimmering snowflakes began to fall upon them, and the dragon paused mid-breath, tilting its head confusedly as the snow decimated its flame breath instantly. Leonora reached up, catching one of the snowflakes in her hand and staring incredulously as it refused to melt from the warmth of her flesh. When she pinched her fingers against it, it pricked her skin, drawing forth a miniscule bead of blood.

"It's as hard as a diamond…!" she breathed.

There came the delicate snap of a finger, and the dragon became encased in a solid block of ice. A teasing giggle danced in the air, and a lithe ice fairy emerged from the swirling ice crystals, her blue skin glistening like a sapphire and her ice-encrusted bustier practically painted on. She gave a slow wink to Palom and snapped her fingers once more, causing the ice sculpture before them to explode in a blast of ebony scales and hailstones. The remains of the mangled dragon slumped to the floor, and the fairy disappeared in a flash of light.

The Dark Elf's voice filled the room once more, strangled and rasping. "Ergh...The noise is gone, and yet...Where...where is my eternal life? Aaagh!" The dragon burst into gray soot, scattering across the steps before the crystal by a final blast of bitter wind.

Palom shook his head slowly, a small smile curling on his lips. "That was the ice Eidolon, Shiva! That must mean...!" _Rydia, you came to save us!_ He whirled around, and as expected, found a slender figure silhouetted in the threshold of the crystal chamber. But as she appraoched, he knew right away that something was terribly wrong. White, polished bare feet, not dragon-scale boots, slapped against the mirrored floor as a gauzy white gown dragged behind, and the air took on an ominous darkness that seemed to dim the very light of the crystal itself. The young woman who had invaded the Epopt chamber emerged from the shadows, her amber eyes locking hungrily upon the Crystal of Earth.

Leonora whimpered, and Palom instinctively took a step forward, blocking her from the girl's view. "Who are you!?" he demanded, trying to control the tremor in his voice.

The girl finally tore her gaze away from the crystal and looked Palom up and down She didn't seem that impressed by what she saw. "Give me the crystal."

Palom shook his head, inching closer to Leonora. "...You aren't from Baron." Leonora bit her lip, looking between Palom and the mysterious girl. If she wasn't one of King Cecil's soldiers, then who was she?

The girl tilted her head. "Didn't you hear me? Give me the crystal."

Palom clenched his jaw. "I'm asking the questions here. What happened to Cecil?"

She shook her head, almost smiling. "I don't need to answer that. If you won't give it to me, I will take it by force." Palom reddened, giving Leonora one last push back toward the dais and stomping toward the intruder. Leonora watched the girl and Palom stare each other down as she quietly slipped up the dais stairs, inching toward the crystal bit by bit.

"We'll see about that," Palom growled, and the girl's hint of a smile faded as she stepped up to him, letting out a low hiss.

"For a specimen of an inferior species, you seem to have some measure of intelligence…But you fail to realize the gap between your power and mine."

Leonora reached up, snatching the crystal and plunging the crystal chamber into darkness once more. She fled down the dais steps, grabbing Palom's arm. "Palom! Let's go!" She watched as the mysterious girl turned her malice-laced eyes upon her, and felt a scream of terror building in her throat. She was willing her feet to move – but she realized she couldn't bring herself to leave without Palom.

Seizing the distraction, Palom quickly flicked his hand toward the girl. "STOP!" he cried, and the mysterious girl suddenly froze in place, eyes wide and lips pursed. Palom and Leonora turned to each other.

"Give me the Crystal and get out of here," Palom demanded. "We haven't much time…a spell like that won't have much effect on her. I don't know _what_ she is, but she is way more powerful than the two of us combined – _and_ she can control eidolons."

Leonora looked away, her eyes watering. "I-I can't...! I can't leave you behind…"

Palom grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. She choked out a sob, clutching the crystal tighter, terrified he would tear it away from her. "I'm your teacher, right? You've got to listen to me."

"But..."

"Don't worry about me. I've got the perfect plan."

"Really?"

Palom reached up, gently taking her chin in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his. "Yeah. _Trust_ me."

 _I've believed in you this whole time – despite you not believing in me._ Leonora flushed at the caress of Palom's callused fingers against her skin as she gazed down at the crystal one last time, pressing it to her lips as she murmured a short prayer and silently handed it over to Palom. A threatening growl emitted from the mysterious girl, and her eyelid began to twitch menacingly. Palom hoisted the crystal in the air.

"Now! Leonora, go!" he cried, and Leonora cast Teleport on herself, disappearing in a flash of light. The mysterious girl broke free of the Stop spell, stumbling forward in disarray to try to grab Leonora's fading form before she registered that the crystal had now changed hands. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth and snorted as she turned her attentions back to Palom. No matter now that one louse was gone – the prize was still right where she wanted it.

"Finally ready to hand over the Crystal now?" she hissed.

Palom smirked. "You said I was one of an inferior species, didn't you?"

The girl raised her eyebrows. "Yes. At least your short-term memory still functions under duress."

"Well, you're about to be outfoxed by someone of that species...right before your eyes!"

She stepped forward, crossing her arms over her chest. He had gotten her – she was intrigued by this sudden surge of confidence where there had only been despair moments before. Just when she thought she knew everything about humans, a new surprise came along. First the half-breed, and now this little brat – it would make for wonderful data. "What do you mean?"

Palom held the crystal to his chest, grinning despite the desolate, pulsing ache in his heart.

 _Porom, Leonora…I'm so scared – but I know the pain is worth it…just like it was before. You have to find Cecil in my place – you have to find out what's happening to Baron!_

"I mean this – _Break_!"

The mysterious girl watched in surprise as the boy petrified himself, the crystal forever entombed in his arms as the light left his eyes.

* * *

Leonora pressed her hand to her forehead, trying to stop the world from spinning around her. She hadn't been in her right mind when her body suddenly seemed to take control, ejecting her from the crystal chamber. She hadn't had a particular destination in mind when she used Teleport, and realized that she had only made it back to the final tunnel before the chamber. She could still hear the frustrated voices of the Baronian soldiers across the ravine – by some miracle, they still had not found the true path. Still, that meant she couldn't make her exit – she would need to summon the energy and concentration to teleport one last time if she had any hope of escaping Baron.

As she pushed herself up from against the wall, Leonora felt a violent constriction in her chest – as if someone were squeezing the air right out of her lungs. Her eyes immediately darted to Palom's scarf and for a moment, she thought she saw dark stains of blood begin to spread over the fibers, like it was being used to dress a wound. But when she blinked her eyes, she saw it was perfectly fine – with the exception of being tear and mucus stained, thanks to her.

"Palom..." Leonora whispered, lacing her fingers together.

* * *

The mysterious girl shook her head as she slowly dragged her fingernails down the petrified arm of the former mage, leaving tiny white trails in the stone. It hadn't been quite the same magic she had used on those troublesome Eidolons, but it was certainly close enough – extinguishing nearly all traces of one's own life wasn't an easy feat. She silently acknowledged that it took a powerful soul to commit such an act – especially coming from such a selfish, worthless human.

"Petrifying yourself along with the crystal..." she smiled. "Unfortunately, you've only proven yourself to be a fool. I'll just shatter your body and retrieve the crystal." She raised her hand in the air, the crackle of pure electricity coursing through the air and sparking between her fingers as she readied her strike.

"Wait!"

The mysterious girl cried out as something heavy struck the back of her head, forcing her to her hands and knees. Reaching up to gingerly caress the throbbing lump that was forming under her scalp, she felt a shadow fall over her and turned to see Leonora looming above, a jagged slab of wood she had pried from the door held aloft in her hands, her eyes wild.

"Don't you touch Palom!" Leonora shrieked.

The girl sighed, shaking her head as she pulled her fingers away, bemused by the blood streaked upon them. "Why are you so eager to throw your life away after your little friend tried to save you? All we want is the crystal."

"I know that," Leonora hissed, and brought the board down again, smashing the girl in her temple with all of her strength. The mysterious girl grunted and slumped to the floor, her eyelids fluttering in a daze as Leonora tossed the wood aside and ran to Palom, placing her hands on his chest.

"Esuna!"

A golden light washed over Palom's form, and the drab gray of his flesh began to restore to its natural state, spreading from his chest under Leonora's hands and coursing through his limbs. As the color returned to his lips, he immediately sneered and reached out, trying to shove Leonora away before she could complete the spell. But his strength was still returning to his numbed muscles, and she was too fast, ignited by adrenaline – she reached up, grasping his wrist mid-air with her right hand and glaring at him defiantly as she pressed the fingers of her left hand deeper into his now thundering heartbeat.

"You idiot!" Palom whispered. "Why did you come back here!?"

Leonora stomped her foot into his, causing him to howl in protest. "How could you do that!? What if she shattered you to pieces?"

He rolled his eyes as he tried to ignore the impulse to yank what remained of her pathetic, disheveled ponytail. "She was _bluffing_!"

Leonora suddenly released his wrist, shoving him away roughly and biting her lip. "You're the one who's bluffing here...And you've _always_ been that way."

Palom blinked, flexing his fingers as he eyed the crescent-moon shaped marks her fingernails had left in his skin. "What!?"

Leonora looked into his eyes pleadingly, both of them ignoring the mysterious girl, who had started to twitch menacingly as she recovered from Leonora's second assault. "Don't you remember? It was right after the war had ended…"

* * *

 _17 Years Prior, Mysidia_

"So I cast a mighty Blizzard on the fires of Mount Ordeals…"

A young pigtailed girl was enraptured as Palom repeated her favorite story in the spot they had been meeting every morning since her arrival into town. She was wearing her best green taffeta dress, the one her mother had always told her brought out the green undertones of what she thought were dull, boring gray eyes. She considered today a special, but sad occasion – it was her last day in Mysidia after what had been one of the best weeks of her life. Her school in Troia had arranged a field trip for aspiring magic students now that Mysidia was welcoming visitors again – the war was over and the Water Crystal returned to its rightful home thanks to the five heroes who had traveled to the moon to save their world.

But after their trip was over, she would be returning to an emptied cottage, and her parents would be ready to sweep her off to the new village they had decided to start their lives over in. They had lost everything during the war and had been forced to flee to Troia for any hope of survival. The foreign city's leaders had treated her like one of their own citizens for these past few months, and just when it had started to feel like home, her parents had made the decision to move on.

Regardless of her pending heartache, deep down inside, she _had_ been excited to finally see Mysidia with her own eyes. And it had been a bonus that her very first evening there she had met Palom, a young black mage who was not only rather (in)famous for his advanced magic skills, but had also actually traveled with one of their world's saviors – and he had plenty to share about his adventures.

* * *

It had been after dinner at the inn, and the students had been given some free time before an early rise the next morning to join the village elder's students in prayer. Exhausted and melancholy, she slipped off to a small pond she had spotted in the northern end of town so that she could at least feel sorry for herself in solitude. What seemed like only a few moments later, her peace was disturbed by a short, brown-haired boy that appeared out of nowhere, his cherubic cheeks streaked with dirt and imbued with a sunburn that was starting to fade into a toasted glow.

"What's your problem?" he asked by way of greeting, his narrowed eyes sweeping over the sour look on her face. Shocked that he hadn't just pardoned himself and left her alone like any normal stranger, she let her whole somber tale out about how her parents had sprung their news about leaving Troia right before she had boarded the ship for Mysidia. When she finished, he sat down next to her, legs crossed and his arms stretched behind his head. The sky had started to darken, and the first twinkling stars for the evening had begun to make their debut. It was a new moon, and both children silently noted their discomfort over how weird it was that the second moon they had known for the entirety of their lives was suddenly just _gone_. Still gazing at the empty sky, he puffed out his chest.

"You know, I traveled with the people who fought on the moon."

"What!?" she gasped, tears forgotten as her eyes widened. "How could that possibly be?"

"Well, they really needed my help," he grinned, giving her a wink. "Their leader practically begged me." She felt a soft warmth travel up her belly to her face – this was just the kind of distraction she needed – a story with a _happy_ ending. Plus, she had heard that some of the heroes had been quite the lot of dashing knights – maybe this boy had some insider secrets he would spill.

"Leonora!" a distant voice drifted over the stifling summer heat, breaking the temporary spell of glee that had overtaken her senses. She stood up, biting her lip. She could feel the boy's eyes on her as she gazed out back toward the main drag through the village, where a figure in shadows was calling for her.

"That's my teacher…Must be time to turn in for the night."

He rested his cheek against his hand. "Well, come back here after your prayers tomorrow. I'll tell you all about it."

"O-OK!" she flushed as her teacher called her name yet again. "Good-bye…um…."

"Palom."

"Er, OK. And I-I'm…"

"Leonora. Yeah, I picked up on that."

* * *

Whether Palom had been stretching the truth ever so slightly about some of his stories or not, they had made Leonora enthusiastic about her mornings and dulled the ache in her chest when she thought about home – or what was soon to no longer be her home – especially when he made her laugh with his less-than-gentlemanly language or when his twin sister would come storming after him and drag him away to whatever lesson he was cutting. When she thought about how homesick the people who had been fighting in the war must have been, including Palom himself, it made her realize that perhaps things would turn out OK for her after all. The whole world was healing and starting over – she had the revelation that it even felt a little nice to be part of it all – like she was connected to something far beyond herself.

That last morning in Mysidia, right on time, Leonora watched as an oblivious Palom recalled his heroism on Mount Ordeals while Porom, his twin, marched right up to him from behind, rearing her tiny hand back and smacking him on the head. Palom screeched and tried to bat her away, but she blocked his fists with expert timing and reached over his head, smacking him again. Leonora's eyes bulged as she planted her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter as she watched Palom get dragged away for the final time.

* * *

In the years since, Leonora had never forgotten the underlying kindness in the prodigy of Mysidia's tales, although he had certainly seemed to have forgotten all about her. She had known the moment she had looked into his eyes when she had been summoned to the Epopts' chamber – there had been no flicker of recognizance whatsoever. And she had been all right with that – she didn't need for Palom to remember her to still appreciate what he had done nearly seventeen years ago – he probably hadn't even realized that his boastful tales had done her any good in the first place.

But she had been disheartened by the bitter, despondent young man that boy by the pond had become – and realized she could not stand aside and watch him suffer any longer. If they were to die – and she was quite positive that was becoming more and more likely with each moment they remained in the mysterious girl's crosshairs – she decided she wanted at least one of her last acts on this planet to help Palom remember who he really was. She was positive that the carefree, benevolent spirit he had once harbored was not quite snuffed out – she had seen echoes of it in the limited time they had spent together, after all. Unconsciously, her fingers brushed over the scarf draped across her breast.

Palom watched her fingers stroke the fabric of his scarf, shaking his head slowly.

"…That was you!?"

She nodded, a wistful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"You've always been that way for as long as I've known you. Bluffing and talking big...just to make others feel better." Palom reddened, his eyes finding hers. When he saw the blushing, timid man reflected back in her pools of gray, he hardly recognized himself.

The mysterious girl growled as she watched the two of them stare at each other, a vein in her temple twitching with impatience as she picked herself up off the floor. She had reached a new level of irritation where her normally monotone voice held just a hint of exasperation.

"I've had enough of this," her eyes drank in the crystal still shining in Palom's hand. "Hand it over _now_."

Palom whirled around to face her, blinking as if he just only remembered she were there. "I think you misunderstood..."

She stopped and stared at him incredulously, her dilated amber eyes turned on him like spotlights. Palom laughed and gave the crystal a pat.

"Who said anything about giving you this thing?"

The mysterious girl shook her head. "Giving up your last chance to live? I find such a decision incomprehensible."

"Maybe so," Palom shrugged and looked at Leonora. "You know, this girl here is no good as an Epopt."

 _What?!_ Leonora bit her lip and looked at her feet, shame flooding her face. _Why, Palom…? I thought…!?_

Palom suddenly threw his arm around her shoulders, clutching her to his side, and pointing the crystal toward the mysterious girl like a loaded gun. Leonora gasped, looking up at him with her mouth agape.

"But as my _partner_ , she passes with flying colors!"

He grinned down at her, and she couldn't help but grin back – and she couldn't ignore the fireworks show that had suddenly gone off in her stomach. The girl crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head. "A poor choice for final words, but I suppose I was wrong about you. You really are just like all the rest of your kind – your fear clouds what should be the simplest of decisions." A pristine white aura began to envelope her body, and eyes flashed like two lanterns bursting aflame in the darkness. "I am almost sorry that you forced my hand." Her feet slowly lifted from the floor, and an unseen wind whipped the hair back from her face, revealing a sterile smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Palom…!" Leonora choked, her fingers involuntarily clutching his coat.

"Come on, Leonora!" Palom chided. "There's two of us, and only one of her! You trust me, right?"

"T-Trust…?" Leonora blinked. "Well, I suppose so, but…" _Weren't you just saying before that we were no match for her!?_

The mysterious girl was rising higher in the air – her toes dangling about a foot from the floor now – and her flimsy gown was being tossed about by the wind, tugging against the pale curves of her skin. Palom lowered his head, his voice dropping to a whisper as he pressed his mouth to Leonora's ear.

"You've heard of Twincasting, right?" She nodded.

"Yes…a spell you create using the intense bond between two people. Is that about right?"

"Close enough. This is going to be your final exam, alright? I need you to Twincast with me."

Leonora raised her eyebrows. "But…how?! I have no idea what to do!"

"Just…just close your eyes and give in to whatever your body tells you to do," Palom said, dropping his hand from her shoulder and pulling away. "You just have to surrender yourself to your partner. I don't know a better way to explain it – pour all your power into _us_."

"Er…" Leonora felt her face getting scalding hot up as she turned away. "Yes, I-I'll do my best."

"Here goes nothing!" Palom winked, and closed his eyes. Leonora worriedly glanced up at the mysterious girl, who was still glaring down at them, as if she were having trouble deciding just how exactly she wanted to end them. For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and Leonora realized that there was nothing behind the girl's gaze – no passion, fear, drive…not even hatred. It was like being stared down by an automaton. She had told Leonora all "we" wanted was the crystal, but…who was "we"? And more importantly…why did the crystal hold such importance to them?

 _She'll let nothing stand in her way,_ thought Leonora, a shiver running down her spine as she closed her eyes. _But Palom is right…I have to believe in us. We're the only two people in the world that stand between her and our precious Crystal of Earth!_

Leonora tried to black out everything in her mind, but with each beat of her heart, Palom's name would reverberate in her ears. Her mind drifted back in time as she watched Porom take Palom away, Leonora's giggle masking the tightness she had felt in her chest as he was swallowed once more by the Tower of Prayer.

 _Bye, Palom…thank you for cheering me up this week. I hope we can meet again if I am ever fortunate enough to return to Mysidia, but you'll probably be long-gone by then…I just know your sense of adventure and justice is going to take you to many wonderful places. I'll pray to the Crystal of Earth for you before my family leaves Troia…_

 _…May we both find happiness on our new journeys._

* * *

Leonora felt as if her entire body had reached a fever pitch. As sweat dripped down her scalp and neck, she bit down on her lip so hard that it hurt, the metallic taste of blood on her tongue just enough to keep her distracted from the agonizing sensation of her blood boiling. She felt yet more sweat drip into her eyes and roll down her cheeks, and she idly wondered if it looked like she was crying in fear – her legs were shaking, and her heart was pounding relentlessly, but she had never felt so powerful in her life.

 _Just a little longer…! I have to stay in sync with Palom…!_

Palom's eyes snapped open and he thrust out his palm. A blast of freezing wind tore through the chamber, spiraling around his arm and forming sparkling ice crystals that exploded in growth when he muttered a Blizzaga spell under his breath. Flicking his wrist in the air, they rose into formation and frantically spiraled toward the mysterious girl like a barrage of shooting stars.

"Now!" he cried, and Leonora opened her eyes, raising her hands in the air. Roaring fire exploded from her fingertips, rushing to embrace the ice crystals Palom had created. But rather than melting, the two elements fused together into a bright purple convulsing haze, a sharp hissing noise ripping through the stillness of the crystal chamber as the newly-born storm slammed into the mysterious girl and exploded in a volley of fire and ice, decimating the aura that had been protecting her. She let out an ear-piercing shriek and fell to the floor in an unceremonious heap of gossamer thread, the cringe-inducing smell of burned hair filling the chamber as she pushed the drenched and singed tendrils out of her face, teeth clenched.

"Is that it?" she demanded, and shook her head irritably as she took in the bemused smiles on Palom and Leonora's faces. "Don't be so impressed with yourselves…this ends now." She clenched her first, slamming it so forcefully into the floor that the crystal tile cracked beneath her fingers. "Shiva!"

The eidolon had emerged once again from the sloping shadows behind them, her sky-high stiletto heels clicking against the tile as she took in her new targets. Before Leonora could register what was happening, Palom grabbed hold of her, the Crystal of Earth slipping from his hands and clattering to the floor as he pulled her into his chest and covered her face with his arms. Leonora buried her face in his chest, her scream muted in his coat. Shiva rested one hand upon the curve of her hip, raising the other in the air and making one clean snap with her fingers that echoed off the chamber walls. A surge of glacial wind washed over them, and Palom could feel his strength draining away as the biting gales tore into his flesh. Leonora slumped away from his numbed arms, falling face-first onto the floor with her hair spilling down her back as delicate diamond-like frost began to climb up her body, turning her pearl-white skin into a pale blue mask of death.

Palom, staring in horror at his legs as the frost began to ascend his body too, felt as if every last molecule of air was being forced out of his lungs by prickly needles. Gasping for breath as he fell to his knees, he tried to reach for the fallen Crystal of Earth, but found his hand suddenly pinned underneath the bare foot of the mysterious girl as she smiled down at him, grinding her heel into his immobilized fingers for good measure as she leisurely swept down and scooped up the crystal – completely unaffected by Shiva's magic. Palom managed to lift his head and sneer with blue-tinged lips, and she repaid him the favor by smashing the crystal against the back of his head, forcing him back down to the floor.

"That's for what your friend did to me earlier," she said softly. "An eye for an eye, as they say."

"L-Leonora..." Palom moaned, his eyes sliding shut. Leonora didn't stir as the ice crystals made their way to her lips and cheeks, the rest of her body completely blanketed in frost. Ignoring the stabbing pain on his crown and the salty smell of what he could only assume was his own blood pouring from his head, Palom lifted his eyes defiantly toward the mysterious girl once more, his voice shaking. "Wait...You can't…"

"I am done with you," she declared, and closed her eyes, disappearing in a flash of divine light, crystal in-hand. Shiva, now left to her own devices, commenced twirling and pirouetting about the chamber, gesturing elegantly as she continued to blanket the rest of the room in layers of snow and ice, her sparkling cape swirling behind her as she sang with unabashed joy.

"No..." Palom whimpered, biting his lip as he felt the slow burn of the ice wrap around his throat. His brain had started to get heavy and foggy, like a damp, rotting sponge, and black spots started bleeding into his vision. _Porom…can you hear me?_

 _For what it's worth…I'm sorry – about everything. Just wish I could have told you to your face…but what's one more screw-up for me, huh?_

Palom's cheek hit the crystal tile, and he summoned the last of his strength to expel the scream he had been holding in since he had awakened and saw that Leonora had foolishly returned to him, her gray eyes shimmering with a strange light he had been simultaneously enthralled and terrified by.

 _"Nooo!"_


	12. Act Twelve: The Twins' Tale

Act Twelve: The Twins' Tale | The Diverging Path

 _17 Years Prior_

 _Mysidia_

"Well then, let us begin today's lesson."

Porom nodded obediently, trying not to give away just how giddy she was that morning. "All right." She was _so_ happy that she could hardly keep still – finally, they were going to start talking about level three magic, and the Elder had even gathered some of his more advanced students for live demonstrations. It was shaping up to be an exciting day already – and the novelty of slipping back into her daily routine after miraculously returning from the war alive and well still had not worn off, either. If anyone had asked Porom in that moment what she wanted to change about her life, she would have beamed happily and declared: "Nothing…it's perfect!"

The Elder paused for a moment, just now realizing that he had _only_ been addressing Porom. He glanced to his left, where three black mages were waiting patiently, hands tucked into their billowing robes, and then to his right, where three white mages were looking at each other with apprehension. Finally, the Elder sighed and pressed his fingers to his forehead.

"…Where is Palom?"

 _Well…almost perfect._

Porom looked at their surroundings. Palom's bed was empty (but not made – typical), and all of his stuff was still piled next to it, so he couldn't have gone anywhere far. She knew he wasn't in the bath, because it was the ladies of the tower's morning to use it. Suddenly, it hit her. "Oh, not again..." She grumbled. "I'll find him."

She walked outside the tower and around the corner to where a little man-made pond was dug for rainwater. Sure enough, her twin brother was outside, regaling a random cute girl who was visiting Mysidia for a field trip from Troia. This was a habit he had started picking up since things in the world had settled down a bit and people started traveling again. That meant lots of new faces were visiting Mysidia, which had become even more infamous since the Red Wings Water Crystal burglary. This particular face had honey blonde hair pulled up into two pigtails, wearing an elegant green taffeta dress that was beautifully cut and brought out the green undertones of her haunting gray eyes.

Palom had his chest puffed out as he was talking. "So I cast a mighty Blizzard on the fires of Mount Ordeals…"

Porom marched right up to him, smacking him on the head. Palom screeched and tried to bat her away, but she blocked his fists and hit him again. The little girl watched wide-eyed, trying to stifle her laughter.

"When are you going to stop that!? The elder's furious with you!" Porom shrieked. She grabbed Palom's collar, and started to drag him away. Palom looked back toward the girl longingly, reaching out with his hand.

"But it is Leonora's last day here…!"

"Oh jeeze," Porom whispered. "You won't even remember her in a week. And we've got other places to be today, remember? After our lesson this morning, we must make way for Baron. The wedding will start with or without us – and I, for one, want to actually see it!"

When Porom shoved her brother back inside the Tower of Prayer, the Elder immediately jumped on him, his eyes red with rage. "How many times must I tell you the same thing before it sinks into that thick skull of yours? You've a _great deal_ of growing up to do if you ever plan to be the sort of mage Tellah was. Two more hours of spell transcription for you!"

Palom's jaw dropped…the Elder's words had landed a critical hit: Invoking Tellah's legacy _and_ boring homework. The Elder couldn't be serious, right? "Aw, not again..."

Porom crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. "You've only yourself to blame, you know."

Palom glared down at his leather boots, his fists clenched. Porom's incessant mocking was the straw that broke the camel's back. _Forget this! I've had enough of this stupid training! Spell transcription is just busywork for novices!_

Without another word, he spun on his heel and bolted back through the door Porom had just dragged him through, the heavy wooden doors slamming shut behind him with a jarring crash that made everyone in the classroom jump.

Porom gasped, raising her hand in protest even though he was already long-gone. "Palom!"

The Elder shook his head in disgust. "What a troublesome one..."

Porom whirled around, clasping her hands together and preparing to fall to her knees to beg if necessary. If they didn't get to do any of the training they had planned for the morning, who knew when they would get to it again? The Elder had made it very clear that the students who were joining them for the lesson were extremely busy and that such a favor would not have normally been considered, had it not been the twin geniuses of Mysidia who were the pupils. "Please allow me to go after him, Elder!"

The Elder sighed. "You may have experience in battle, yes, but you are both still young. More spiritual training is still required to master the magic you seek. Do you really think you can get that through to him?"

"I will, Elder," Porom nodded solemnly. _I have to drag him back here before the elder gets any angrier..._

One of the black mages rolled his eyes. "I've never seen anyone hate his training with such passion, much less the best black mage in all Mysidia."

The mage next to him nodded. "I still have trouble believing that he's your twin brother, to be honest, Lady Porom. I sure don't envy you."

"Such a shame! I had hoped that some of Cecil's humble gallantry would rub off on Palom during their travels," a white mage shook her head.

"Palom is a world traveler now. Perhaps Mysidia is starting to feel a tad cramped for him," another white mage said tenderly.

Porom bit her lip and turned to leave, feeling the unbearable flush of embarrassment crawl up her cheeks. Even though she hadn't done anything wrong, she couldn't help but feel like every time Palom caused a scene or threw a fit about something that she was instantly guilty by association. And no matter what, she was _always_ the one who had to fix it – it was she who was expected to walk behind him at all times, cleaning up his messes before they inconvenienced someone else.

Porom wandered back outside the Tower of Prayer, sneaking into the bushes that bordered the gardens and peering over the ledge to the spy on the pond she had caught Palom near in the middle of his brag-fest. Sure enough, he had returned to the scene of the crime, although the little girl he had been talking to had fled.

 _Smart of her_ , Porom thought bitterly, crawling back out of the bushes and yanking the twigs out of her hair. She marched behind Palom, tempted to smack him in the face but instead tapping him (with a smidge of aggression) on his shoulder. "Give it up, Palom! The Elder wants to see you!"

Palom turned around, making a rude gesture with his finger. "Tough for him! I'm not gonna start my training all over again with transcription! No way!"

Porom frowned. "You're better than this, Palom! I thought you wanted to be a great sage, like Tellah!"

Palom shook his head. "Tellah probably never had to put up with an obnoxious teacher who was out to get him at every turn!"

Porom looked down. "Palom…I know you're angry, but…the Elder is more than our teacher. He's our Mom and our Dad. He rescued us when we were left for dead in Baron. Do you think anyone else on the entire planet would have summoned the power he had to call upon to save us from our petrification?"

Palom pressed his lips into a straight line. "Hmph. Fine... You're right, you win."

Porom smiled a little, offering her hand. But Palom brushed past her, marching back up to the Tower of Prayer by himself. She lowered her hand slowly, watching his disappearing form.

 _You're such a fool…It's not about me winning…_

Porom climbed up the hill after him, silently slipping back through the tower entrance. She was dismayed to find that the six mages whom had arrived for training had disappeared, leaving the Elder and Palom in the middle of a heated conversation. Porom was about to back away, but the Elder caught her gaze and discreetly motioned her over with a curl of his finger.

"You look like you have something on your mind, boy. Why don't you just come out and say it?"

Palom threw his hands in the air. "Look, Elder, you may not be aware of this, but my skills have developed much more than you think."

Porom's jaw dropped to the floor. "Palom!"

The Elder crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that so? There's nothing else here for you to learn. Is that what you are trying to say?"

Palom looked back at Porom, who was still standing in the doorway, shocked at the audacity of what was coming out of her brother's mouth. "Come on, Elder. You know just as well as I do how powerful we really are."

Porom shook her head, her voice cracking as she avoided his piercing gaze. "Hold your tongue, Palom!"

Palom smirked. "You think so, too, right Porom? Without us, Cecil would've never made it anywhere near Mount Ordeals!" Porom looked away, her heart racing.

Maybe that was a _little_ true…but they had first met Cecil under the most dreadful of circumstances. He had just been shipwrecked and lost all of his companions, Rosa had been captured by Golbez, and his soul was so shredded by pain and regret from training under the dark sword that Porom had feared he was on the brink of death when she first laid eyes upon him. Yes, the Elder had originally sent Palom and Porom to spy on him, but in the end, everything Cecil had achieved on Mount Ordeals was his own doing. Porom wondered how Palom could possibly cite Cecil's weaknesses and vulnerability as an example of his own strength.

 _He's deplorable_ , Porom thought to herself angrily. _Don't you dare look at me while you say such terrible things about our friends!_

Interpreting Porom's lack of reply as an affirmation for his words, Palom turned back to the Elder, satisfied. "We've grown so much since the journey we took. Haven't you realized that, Elder?"

The Elder twisted his mouth in thought. "Hmm... I suppose you have a point."

 _What!?_ Porom silently screamed. _You're…you're kidding!_

Palom puffed out his chest. "I know I do! 'Cause I'm gonna become a sage! Just like old man Tellah!"

The Elder sneered. "Tellah, you say? Then you have a long way to go, Palom. Growth is not something gained on your own. It is the product of all the people you meet along the way...from Cecil and Tellah to everyone else around you."

Palom flushed, feeling a twinge of regret for badmouthing Cecil. "I...I already know that, Elder! I don't need you to tell me."

"It is a simple thing to say, but I forbid you from leaving Mysidia. It is still too soon for you."

Palom pouted. "Too soon? Well, when's it not gonna be too soon?" The Elder sighed, exasperated.

"When you have truly understood the words I have spoken."

"Can I go out and travel the world once I do?"

"Once you do...yes."

Palom's grin returned, lighting up his features. "All riiight! I'll be outta here in a flash! Cecil and the others better be ready for me!" He flicked his braid over his shoulder, and smirked. "I guess that's all the time we have for today if we want to make it to Baron in time, right? I'll be making myself respectable." With that, he pushed past the Elder and ran upstairs to what Porom could only assume was the wash room. After his pounding footsteps had faded, Porom walked up to the Elder, confusion alit in her eyes.

"Are you sure you meant to tell him that, Elder?" Porom asked meekly. She never wanted to give the Elder the impression she was questioning him, but…she had wondered if their talk had had the opposite effect on Palom than it should have. Instead of being humbled, Palom was now more convinced by his abilities than ever.

The Elder nodded. "Of course. The meetings and partings one experiences in life help to strengthen the self. As hard as it is to believe, I do think your brother will one day be ready to leave Mysidia – you both demonstrated a great sense of responsibility when you sacrificed yourselves for Cecil and the others. But one such act is not enough – he needs to demonstrate accountability here at home, too, when the stakes are not so high. I think once a little more time has passed and life truly returns back to normal for us again, he will be more understanding of what I am asking of him."

Porom nodded. "Yes, Elder." She didn't exactly agree with everything he said, but she respected the wisdom behind it. The Elder had been around for a long time, after all – he had taught many pupils, met many different kinds of people, and had been around the world several times over himself. He had seen a lot change in the time he had been on the planet, and had more perspective than Porom knew she could ever hope for.

The Elder tilted his head. "And I'm sure you would like to hit the road yourself someday, Porom."

Porom blinked. "I...what?"

He smiled kindly. "It is written on your face, plain as day."

Porom pressed her lips together, feeling a tremble run through her body. "Oh..."

* * *

 _Mysidia, one day after the moon's return_

Porom folded the elegantly-inscribed wedding invitation back into thirds, taking care not to bend the corners as she smoothly slid it back into its ivory envelope. Pressing the flap down, she could still make out the Baronian coat of arms that was impressed upon the crimson wax seal – a pair of griffins flanking a slender blade and a replicate of the crown of the royal family.

The invitation had been hand-delivered to the Elder nearly seventeen years ago by a member of Baron's royal guard, containing the announcement of Cecil's coronation as King of Baron and subsequent marriage to Rosa, who would become his queen. Porom had been so excited about the wedding that she begged the Elder to let her keep the invitation as a keepsake for her diary, a new hobby she had taken up after returning home from the war. She had seen so many wonderful things in her short time with Cecil that she had decided she would start documenting them right away, before she forgot any of the little details of her journey. After she had completed chronicling her adventures, she brought her diary to Cecil's wedding, and spent the entire evening while the grownups drank and danced writing about everything she had seen and heard until she passed out face-down in the open notebook at the children's table, her cheek smudged with the yet-fresh ink.

Tucking the invitation back inside the first leather-bound volume she had filled up with her daily observations, frustrations with her brother and all of the secrets she couldn't bring herself to share with anyone else, Porom flipped several pages ahead to where yet another letter was tucked away.

This one had been delivered by Damcyan, and still carried the sweet scent of the lily of the valley that had accompanied it. Porom had carefully laid the flower against the silky paper Edward had hand-scribed himself with all of their names and the date and time of the grand celebration for Damcyan Castle's reconstruction. What had started out as a day full of scrumptious food and visiting with long-unseen friends had become a race against time when Palom and Porom had volunteered to help Cecil and Cid stay the monsters that were escaping en masse from the Sealed Cave.

 _This was the first time the Elder let us travel on our own after the war ended,_ Porom thought, flipping through a few pages of her rushed handwriting. _And it was the first time that both Palom and I had ever been tricked by the disguise of an enemy. We never figured out who – or what – that girl was that was pretending to be Rydia. Perhaps she wasn't a monster, and that was why we could not detect her presence…but I guess we'll never know now._

Porom sighed aloud as she flipped to the last few pages of the journal. She had been thinking about the past a lot – more so ever since Ceodore had stumbled onto her doorstep last night. Seeing Ceodore again after so long had reminded Porom of when she had met Cecil, and the need to wallow in nostalgia after such a trying past few weeks had overcome her, causing her to turn to her old diaries. With Palom gone and the Elder sick, there was very little for her to occupy her time with when she was not minding the Tower of Prayer in the Elder's place.

Escorting Cecil to Mount Ordeals had been the first time Porom and Palom had ever been allowed to leave the village – and they had done it together, surviving against all odds. There had never been a day in Porom's childhood that she had not been by her brother's side, but when she was younger, she hadn't much minded that – she and Palom didn't always get along, but they were friends more often than they were not.

But things had begun to slowly change between them as the years wore on – for the worse. Porom wasn't sure if it was the war that had spurned the changes in their relationship, or if it was just a natural consequence of growing up, but steadily, she and her twin brother had begun to drift apart. Her eyes fell upon the page she had landed on, dated a couple of years after they had defeated Rydia's impostor in the Underworld.

 _This was the last journey we took together where things were normal between Palom and I,_ Porom thought, her eyes watering as she began to read through the final pages of the journal. _And after that…_

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _It's the last day of sailing before we reach Kaipo. Palom has mostly slept this whole time, and to be honest, there hasn't been much to see – just endless ocean since we've left Mysidia. At first, being on the ship made me sick – it's amazing how I can fly on an airship with no problems, but put a ship on the sea and I turn as green as a Sahagin. But I've found that if I can concentrate very hard on one thing, like this journal, I don't think about my stomach tossing about as much._

 _I still can't believe the day is finally here that Palom and I are able to travel on our own. Of course, Palom being who he is, ultimately got to pick where we went…but I was just happy he invited me to come along (although I think the Elder would have made him take me anyway)…_

"Ha haaah! Finally! I'm off on my quest to become a sage!" Palom had bounded upstairs from the hold of the ship, fresh off of another one of his naps. Porom, who had been staring over the railing of the ship, watching as the shores of Kaipo inched closer and closer, turned to look at her brother. They were still mirror-images of each other – shoulder-length chestnut brown hair swept away from their faces, wide, sparkling brown eyes that reflected the glittering sea that surrounded them, and matching sets of crescent moon-shaped lips that were the same dusty pink as carnations. Neither had yet hit the initial growth spurt that always seemed to precede adolescence, so they were both still similar heights, their healthily tanned faces still flush with baby fat.

"What made you want to visit Kaipo first?" Porom smiled. Palom crossed his arms over his chest.

"'Cause it's Tellah's homeland, of course. What did you think?"

Porom tilted her head. "That's all?"

Palom huffed, his lips starting to twist into a scowl. "What do you mean, "that's all"?"

She shook her head, letting out a slight sigh. "Don't you understand anything?"

"Huh?"

"The title of sage isn't something to be obtained. It's something that's _granted_ to you."

Palom flushed, the same way he always did when he was getting ready to feed someone a line – Porom had picked up on that tell long ago. "Y-yeah, that's right. I knew that already."

Porom pressed the palms of her hands together, willing them to not reach out and smack her idiot brother in the head. "Then, who do you think grants something like that to you?"

"The Elder, right?"

Porom frowned. "No. The people of the world do."

This revelation clearly shook Palom, who stumbled back a few feet even though the ship had hardly rocked – they had been lucky and were traversing fantastically clear seas that morning, for which Porom's stomach was especially grateful. "What...!?"

Porom would have burst out laughing if she wasn't on the brink of tears – her brother's idiocy was beyond words. Had he really learned nothing from the Elder after all of these years? "Nobody's going to call you a sage just because you've learned black and white magic. You have to throw away your own wishes and ambitions, Palom, and learn to use your magic to benefit the whole world…not just yourself."

Palom flicked his wrist dismissively, sticking out his tongue. "Pfft. That goes without saying, Porom."

"Are you sure you know?"

"Well, that's the way Tellah was, wasn't it?"

Porom nodded. She had to give credit where credit was due – her twin at least had a good understanding of his hero's approach to life when he had been among the living. "You're right. Tellah traveled around the world with the Elder himself, long ago. Just like we're doing right now."

He grinned, all traces of the stormy scowl that had been starting to take over blowing away with the sea breeze that washed over them. "Wow! Really? I knew it!" Encouraged, Porom went on.

"Eventually, the elder returned to Mysidia and devoted his life to protecting the world through his magic. Tellah, meanwhile, continued his travels for years afterward, using his power for the good of all mankind."

"How long did he do that for?" Palom blinked.

"Oh, at least decades."

Palom went pale. _Oof. That long?_

Porom's lips couldn't help but twitch into the tiniest of smiles at the sudden turn in her brother's pallor. "And at the end of his journey, he decided to settle down in Kaipo, where Anna was born." Palom looked away pensively, his eyebrows knitted.

"Huh. I didn't know that."

She shrugged. "Of course, it'll probably take longer for you than it did for him."

Palom shook his head. "Well...I'll give it a shot. I'm in this for the long haul."

* * *

 _After we docked in Kaipo, we made the long journey across the desert to reach Kaipo proper. Kaipo is built around a little oasis in the middle of the huge Damcyan desert, and the desert itself is filled with gross monsters like Sand Worms and Hundlegs. If you're not careful to drink lots of water, you can contract Desert Fever. It sounds frightful, but you can survive if you are cured with a Sand Pearl before the fever has run its course. However, I don't know if I could trust Palom with such an arduous task…I'd may as well consider myself dead at that point._

 _When we made it to the village, I was so surprised to see just how different it was from Mysidia. There are outdoor shops and stands everywhere, swathed in a mixture of beautiful jewel-toned fabrics and less-flashy and positively ancient canvas swatches that have been so ravaged by the sun and wind that they are practically transparent. Palm trees that are as tall as ten men are scattered about, the biggest ones providing so much shade that you see large groups of people gathered under them to eat or talk. Kaipo is built right next to the only source of water in the whole desert, and canals have been dug everywhere to bring that water directly into the city so that no one has to leave the city walls to get a drink. As you walk the cobblestone streets, sand crunches under your boots, and if you are not careful, a big gust of wind will carry more sand right into your eyes, even with the massive ivory walls that protect the city._

 _Palom says all he wants to do now that we are here is take it easy, but as I've been sitting under one of the palm trees and watching him as I write, I can see his eyes darting around anxiously, like he is looking out for something. I've seen him go up to a few people now and ask them questions, but I can't tell what they are saying, or what they point to in reply._

Porom closed her journal, tucking it into her knapsack and leaning back against the palm tree, her eyes sliding shut. She thought it would be agonizingly hot in a place like Kaipo, but the water that ran through the numerous canals would gift you with a refreshingly cool breeze if it hit you in just the right way. A yawn escaped her lips, and she thought perhaps Palom was right – a moment of rest could very well do them both good.

"Porom!"

"Mmm…"

Her eyes snapped open only to find her brother staring at her impatiently. She doubted she could have been asleep for any more than a minute!

"Let's go – there's something interesting we should see on the north side of town."

"Oh…" Porom rubbed her eyes, another yawn forthcoming. "Coming…" She pulled herself up from the ground, brushing the sand off her bottom and her knapsack before slinging it over her shoulders and letting Palom take the lead.

They passed through the marketplace, Porom's head whipping in every direction as she tried to take in all of the people and the activity bubbling up around her. Many of the adults would smile and nod at them as they passed through, and she felt very grown-up indeed, walking among strangers and not being stopped to ask if she was lost or where her parents were.

At last, they broke through the crowds and came to a small pool that was built underneath one of the village's border walls. On the other side of the wall was the oasis, which flowed into the pool and was then distributed to the rest of the city via the canals. A stretch of green ran along the banks, with two flower small gardens filled with hibiscus bushes and orange-centered plumeria that brushed up against a pair of small, but well-cared for gravestones.

Palom walked up to one of the graves, pausing. Porom snuck up behind him, and began to quietly read out loud.

"Tellah, the great sage, rests in this desert oasis together with his beloved daughter Anna."

"This is really it…the old man's grave!" Palom whispered.

Porom pressed her lips together. "Well, don't just stand there! Offer your respects to him!" She bowed her head, folding her hands together and closing her eyes. Palom followed suit, clenching his eyes shut and for once, trying to look serious.

Porom could feel her heart getting heavier as she thought back to when they had first met Tellah. Even though the Elder and Tellah had been friends all their lives, the twins had only encountered him for the first time on Mount Ordeals with Cecil. Shockingly, Tellah and Cecil had known each other as well, and Tellah had offered to join forces with them to conquer the rest of the mountain. It had been during that encounter that Porom had realized that if someone as world-renowned and kind as Tellah was friends with someone like Cecil, that perhaps the dark knight stood a chance of surviving Mount Ordeals' trial after all…there had to be some mote of light within the lost knight that had drawn Tellah to him.

Unfortunately, it was only after Tellah's death that Porom had learned the truth – that even in the beloved sage, there had been a stain of darkness, one that had slowly spread through his heart and gnawed at him until his bitter end, when he had died attempting to exact revenge against Golbez for murdering Anna by unleashing upon him the ultimate black magic, Meteor. The spell's power had been too much for the old man's weakened body and spirit, and he traded all of his life force for what had ultimately been a failed attempt to slay Golbez.

The Elder had broken the news to Palom and Porom shortly after they had returned home to Mysidia, when they questioned why Tellah had not joined them in the Tower of Prayers to pray for Cecil and the others while they were fighting for their lives on the moon.

"No matter how good and filled with light a man's heart may be, there is always a touch of darkness," the Elder had explained to the teary twins. "Even our most beloved heroes must constantly wage battle against the threat of darkness and could be consumed at any time if they turn their backs to the light. And the reverse is true as well; there is always a trace of light in the darkest of hearts – let that bolster your faith when you feel lost or afraid. Let Tellah's legacy inspire you and let his kind self always be how you remember him…but do not forget how he met his end. Never forget that things could have been different…"

Porom could feel the sweat starting to trickle down her neck from the intense desert sun beating down on her back. _Tellah...may you be happy together with Anna for all eternity. And may you guide us with your infinite wisdom._ She opened one eye slightly to spy on Palom, who still had his eyes closed. _Especially Palom, he REALLY needs it._

Palom's forehead was scrunched up in thought. He realized that after his sister barked her orders at him that he didn't exactly know what to say when you were talking to a dead person. He had never been to a funeral before, and this was his first visit to a grave of someone he had known when they were alive. When Baron had invaded Mysidia all those years ago and had stolen the Crystal of Water, Palom had not actually known any of the mages that had fallen in the brutal bloodshed that had followed. He remembered the Elder saying that he and Porom were too young to attend the mass funeral ceremony they had held on the shore, where the cremated remains of those slain had been had been released during the evening tide. Porom had spent the night crying in the Tower of Prayers, and Palom, not knowing how to possibly comfort her, had just sat by her side, staring at his feet.

 _Maybe just try talking to him like he was still here?_ Palom thought, swallowing the lump in his throat. _Hey, old man! Guess it's been a while, hasn't it? Well, I'm finally here. I came to visit your homeland and everything. I hope you're watching over me, Tellah...Becomes someday I'm gonna be a sage, just like you!_

When he opened his eyes again, he saw Porom staring at him with a kind, but sad smile. "Palom, is this why you wanted to come to Kaipo?"

Palom blushed a little, raising his hand. "Heh heh! Just thought I'd check up on the old man first, you know."

 _First?_ Porom wondered, but found herself distracted by the grave that was next to Tellah's, realizing that she had yet to read it as well. Turning away from Palom, she cleared her throat, which had started to get a little dry from the sand drifting through the air, and read out loud once more for both their benefit:

"Anna, daughter of the great and gentle sage, rests in this desert oasis surrounded by eternal love."

Porom pressed her hand to her chest. "I didn't realize Anna was right here as well. You knew who she was, right?"

Palom nodded, already lost in thought. _Anna, the woman King Edward loved with all his heart. She must've been a nice lady. Maybe kind of like our mom…I guess I can't really remember her anymore…_

Porom lowered her eyes. _Anna...I witnessed in-person through Edward's stories about you the grace and profound love you possessed within. May you rest in peace alongside Tellah for all time._ She thought about the dreamy light that would shine in Edward's eyes whenever Anna came up, and how he would suddenly start acting like an entirely different person – much more cheerful and hopeful – and let out a quiet sigh. _Sometimes I wonder...if I too have a chance. A chance to become a woman like you, a woman who knew how to love more deeply than anyone else. Sometimes…it feels very hard to love someone, even when you know you should. Why is that? Does that mean I don't know how to love unconditionally, or…?_ She looked over at Palom again, and this time, he was the one staring at her. Her cheeks erupted in a flaming blush. He couldn't read her mind…right?

"What?"

Palom shrugged. "Nothing. Shall we go on to training, then?"

"Training!?" Porom blinked. "So, that's why we came all the way out here? Where would we possibly train? It is endless desert, and the way to Mist is blocked now."

"The underground waterway up north!" Palom exclaimed. "Tellah used to cross it all the time to go back and forth between Damcyan, you know. He told me some stories!"

"What stories?" Porom raised her eyebrows. "Nothing too dangerous, I hope?"

"Obviously not if he was still going even in his declined state," Palom frowned. "You saw how much magic he had forgotten by the time we met him on Mount Ordeals. Surely we'll have no issues – it's just some light training against monsters we normally wouldn't ever get to see. How are we going to practice elemancy if we just fight the same foes all the time in the meadows near our village? Monsters in caverns have totally different weaknesses. There might even be some undead that you can practice your white magic on."

Porom shook her head. Unfortunately, her brother had a good point, and she couldn't find any reason to argue. She supposed that their travels couldn't only take them to new towns to people-watch within and leisurely explore. Their magic would do neither of them any good if they couldn't continue to apply it to real-life combat situations, where they had to think on their feet and not just solve a problem from a text book.

"Ah, OK," Porom gave in. "Let's just make sure we have plenty of supplies before we head out, all right?"

* * *

 _This place is so creepy. I think it's even worse than Mount Ordeals, if that is possible._

 _But Palom is absolutely enthralled._

 _We've reached a small cavern that must be a popular rest area for passers-by. The floor of the cavern is decorated with pale blue, glowing crystals that are supposed to repel monsters. There were even the remains of a campfire, although the gods only know how long it has been since someone was last here. With the new port that opened in Kaipo, I'm sure many people do not travel through the cavern anymore to reach the oasis, unless they absolutely have to. Palom lit us a fire and is now cooking lunch – I hope it's somewhat edible, because I am starving._

 _The entire waterway is, as one would expect, very damp and cold – the chill bit into me nearly as soon as I stepped through the mouth of the entryway, and the puddles on the ground have already soaked my boots. We've been descending quite a bit, but according to the map Palom procured while we were shopping in Kaipo, we should be climbing up again soon. I'm not sure how far he intends to go – if we keep up this pace, we'll be in Damcyan. But at least King Edward would have warm beds we could crawl into, and Harley, his secretary, would make sure we had everything we could possibly want. She's always so organized and everything runs in Damcyan according to her word – she's practically a queen, herself._

 _As we made our way through the waterway, Palom would not stop talking and would just randomly stop and stare, as if he were trying to memorize everything around him. As we were crossing a large bridge, Palom paused again, totally distracted, and I had to bash in the head of a Gigantoad that was eyeing him from under the bridge, ready to snatch at his foot and drag him under with its long, disgusting tongue. Yuck!_

 _"This must be the place. The bridge where Tellah and Cecil first met!" Palom exclaimed, turning to me as I was busy trying to fling toad slime off of my mythril staff. I glared up at him for not even noticing the trouble I had just saved him from._

 _"I'm really walking down this path, aren't I?" Palom asked me eagerly. "I'm gonna be a sage if I keep this up."_

 _Oh, if only you had any idea what you were actually talking about…I yelled at him to stop thinking about superfluous things like that in the middle of what was supposed to be training, but he just skipped ahead, oblivious._

 _To be honest, I've never seen him so engaged in his life – at least not since we last traveled to the Underworld and survived the mysterious girl's attack. I am starting to better understand why he longs to be free from Mysidia, but I still can't totally comprehend it – there is still so much both of us have yet to learn, and I'm not ready to leave everyone I know and love – being with Palom and the Elder make me feel safe. How can be two people who are as alike as we are in every conceivable way be wired so differently?_

 _I wonder what Cecil would say if I asked him a question like that…I'm sure he has had the same thoughts about his brother as well._

Porom wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve before it could drip into her eyes – despite how cold the waterway was, the humidity from the moisture all around them was insufferable, and she was exhausted from the steadily upward climb they had begun ever since leaving the campsite. But when she moved her arm back down, she saw sunlight shining brightly ahead of them, beckoning them back to the surface. "Hmm? We're at the exit already?"

Palom unfolded the map, pausing for a moment before shaking his head. "Not just yet." He closed it back up again, and turned to Porom, who nearly smacked into him.

"Ack! What?" Porom gasped, and Palom held up his finger.

"Can't you feel it? The presence of a monster nearby. A _big_ one."

Porom crossed her arms over her chest, closing her eyes. At first, all she could feel was the ever-increasing chill of the cavern, which had now not only soaked her boots, but had made its way up her pant legs and had started to weigh down her cape. But as she attempted to block out the steady weeping of the cavern ceilings upon the stone floor, and the distant roar of the petite waterfalls they had crossed over on mildew-eaten wooden footbridges, she could feel a heavy, menacing presence that made her stomach twist in knots – almost as if someone had thrown a blanket that had been submerged in warm, stinking juice from rotting produce over her head. She gagged as the scent hit her nose, and her eyes snapped open. "Oh. Yes, now that you mention it."

Palom nodded. "Things are about to get serious. I bet it's in the next stretch of tunnels."

Porom frowned. Another stretch of tunnels…that didn't sound good. "We had better get some rest once we're back above ground."

"You've got that right."

Once they surfaced, they allowed themselves another break, stripping off their soaked clothes and shoes and setting them out to dry in the sun as they ate another round of mana-replenishing snacks in their underclothes – a tunic and bloomers for Porom, and a sleeveless shirt and shorts for Palom. Now the overbearing afternoon sun felt amazing, and Porom could already feel her spirits perking up. Whatever the monster was that was waiting for them had to have been troublesome for the locals – she would be happy to put it in its place – once she was a little warmer and no longer felt like she was about to catch her death.

"You know, once more kingdoms have airships, people aren't going to go into places like this anymore," Palom said, and Porom looked up at him, swallowing the food she was in the middle of chewing.

"Hmmm? You think other kingdoms will have airships someday?"

"Well, sure," Palom blinked. "Why wouldn't they? Cecil gave the Falcon to the dwarves, and it's just going to be a matter of time before other kingdoms want in on the action too, don't you think? The world has already changed so much since the war ended – people are trying to find easier ways to cross borders and become global citizens. Now that everyone has seen the power of Baron thanks to all the hell they caused during the war, they're going to want to replicate it so they can advance even further too. At least, that's what I would want, if I were king. I'd be afraid of Baron pulling another fast one."

Porom tilted her head. The thought of Palom as a king of _anything_ gave her nightmares. She could barely picture him even becoming Elder of their little village. "I don't know about that…I think most of the people in this world that hold any kind of power understand that what happened to Baron was just a series of unfortunate events. Baron was as much of a victim as anyone else…their ruler was killed and impersonated by the fiend of water, Cagnazzo, and it was after that that all of their war crimes were committed. It doesn't seem like anyone is rushing to compete with Baron in terms of military or technology – everyone seems content now that Cecil is on the throne. It may not be in a country's best interest to try to do everything Baron does…that is how traditions die that make each land unique, after all."

"Tradition…what good is it?" Palom smirked. "If people don't change, they'll be left behind. Honestly, Porom – can you think of any good tradition has done for us?"

She brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. "I…I think there is a place in the world for both progress and tradition…I can't think of anything specific off the top of my head, but…"

"Well, I can think of something," Palom frowned. "Maybe if Mysidia hadn't become such a haven for magical families, our parents would have decided it was worth it to raise us."

Porom's eyes widened. "What do you mean by that?"

"You _know_ exactly what I mean. Once the Elder settled in Mysidia, it began to attract more and more people blessed with magical powers. The Elder had the spiritual temperament to understand that Mysidia sat on holy land, even before anyone knew or understand what role Cecil's Lunarian father had in bringing magic to the Blue Planet, and everyone else ate it up. Families like ours were seen as not being able to contribute anything to Mysidia, and were isolated until they left on their own or died out. I still think that when we were born, Mom and Dad felt forced to give us up because we had magic – I don't think they did it willingly."

"Palom…" Porom looked away – she could feel her heart breaking as she struggled with what she wanted to say. She knew she was teetering on the edge of a knifepoint. "Do you really think the Elder would make our parents give us up? He would never allow such behavior to thrive in Mysidia. I won't deny that magic seemingly gave you a higher station in the village, but…he would never tear apart a family. Mom and Dad asked the Elder to raise us because they thought he could give us a better life than they…that he could raise us to our full potential – which would allow us to carve out our own destinies."

"You still think that, eh?" Palom shook his head. "I mean, sure, I believed that when we were kids – it sounded like a cute fairytale, after all – and it served to give us hope when the time between our parents' visits got longer and longer, before they just stopped altogether. But why would our parents _stop_ coming to see us? The obvious answer is that someone forced them to."

 _But we are still kids…_

"I…" Porom pushed her fingers through her hair, closing her eyes. No, she couldn't possibly say what she really thought about their parents out loud…Palom would lose it. Instead, she sat quietly in the little clearing until Palom stopped staring at her and returned to eating, grumbling under his breath. Porom reached over, gingerly brushing her hand over the hem of her pants. They were nearly dry.

* * *

 _My brother has taken things too far. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt with this trip, but…I realize now that was extremely foolish, perhaps even naïve, on my part. How can I possibly continue to place my faith and trust in him after what happened today? And worse yet…I think the Elder has been foolish, as well, for if he had not given in to Palom's begging, I would not have needed to bear witness to such hubris. I still haven't decided if I should tell him about this, or if I should just let Palom hang himself. One thing is for sure…I won't be cleaning up any messes for him any longer. I am done!_

Porom gulped as she stared down at the pounding water below their feet, rushing down the falls in a frenzy of white-capped waves and blinding spray. She longingly looked down at her freshly-dried boots, which were starting to already glisten with droplets of mist. "W-wait! Wait a minute, Palom! That's too dangerous!"

Palom pointed down at the lake below. "That monster is at the bottom of this waterfall! If we don't jump, we're never going to be able to reach it to defeat it. I can't see from up here where to aim my magic – there's too much water."

"Irk…" Porom blanched. She really, _really_ didn't want to jump. "Isn't there any other path?"

Palom gestured for her to look around – but she already knew the answer. The entrance to the cavern had taken them directly to a ledge that was above the waterfall, and there were no signs of any pathways that would take them down on either side. Porom could see holes in the ground from where more prepared travelers had driven stakes in order to tie ropes and rappel down, but nothing had been left behind for them to use. "Doesn't look like it. You scared?"

Porom could feel the hair on the back of her neck rising. "N-no! Of course not!"

Palom grinned, taking her hand. "So, let's go!"

Before she could protest, he took a flying leap, dragging her alongside him. Porom screamed and closed her eyes, feeling the water pounding over her shoulders and backside as they plunged into the lake below. She felt them crash through the surface of the water, everything around her going into slow motion and the roar of the falls suddenly becoming muted as she dipped underneath the lake. Palom's hand was wrenched from hers as they were pulled under, and she opened her eyes just in time to see Palom's legs kicking as he propelled himself back to the surface. Following suit, Porom raised her arms above her head and began to swim back, throwing her head back and gasping for air as she broke the surface.

"Whooo, that felt great!" Palom grinned, and Porom stared at him incredulously, her ponytail completely flattened against the back of her head as she attempted to push her water-logged bangs out of her eyes. When she could finally see again, she let out a terrified scream – a massive ice-blue tentacle lined with quivering suckers was poised above Palom's head, seconds away from striking.

"Palom, look out!" Porom shrieked, raising her hand as she desperately kicked her legs to keep herself afloat. "Blink!"

Palom whirled around just in time to see the tentacle come within inches of his head before being repelled by Porom's magic, which had swirled around Palom in a flash of golden light just in time to grant him the super-agility needed to dodge the hit. Palom fell back effortlessly, and the tentacle smashed down into water, causing such a massive splash with its strength that the twins were soaked all over again.

The tentacle's owner emerged from behind the waterfall, a mammoth octopus that carried with it seven other previously unaccounted for tentacles to join the one that had almost smashed Palom's head in. Its body was made of spongy, mucous-covered blue skin that the rushing waterfall rolled off of effortlessly, and set in the center of its head was a pair of white and red-rimmed eyes that were set too closely together above a set of gleaming teeth.

Palom let out a cheer, not even registering that he had already almost bit the dust. "Here goes! My first test on the path to sagehood!"

Porom spat out some water that had gotten in her mouth. How could he not be absolutely terrified at what was in front of them!? "Don't let your guard down!"

"I know, I know!"

Porom tried to reach for her staff, which she had strapped onto her back before they had entered the new cavern that contained the waterfall, but found her hand grasping empty air – it must have fallen off her back when she plunged into the water. Sighing in resignation, she decided the next best thing she could do was find a place she could safely cast magic from – if she wasn't going to be able to defend herself with her staff, she would just be a sitting duck in the water.

Turning anxiously to get a sense of her surroundings, Porom could hear the roar of a magic spell that she could only pray had come from her brother and not from the enemy. Spotting a small island a few yards away, she swam over, dragging herself up and rolling onto it, the drenched clothes on her body nearly doubling her weight and greatly decreasing any semblance of agility.

"Ugh…Slow…!" Porom huffed, beginning a long string of spells to disable the beast as much as possible. She found that while she could not paralyze the entire beast, she could at least freeze some of his tentacles, giving Palom some leverage to get in closer and give greater range to his magic. She followed-up with a series of buffing spells, giving Palom increased speed, agility and the ability to reflect any magic spells that were cast upon him, of which the beast seemed to favor Blizzara. Porom left herself wide-open, focusing her efforts on her brother, and as a result was gifted with several Blizzara spells of her own, the pain so intense thanks to her already saturated clothes that it felt like thousands of ice needles pricking her all over as she was struck.

But even with Porom's assistance, Palom seemed to be doing very well on his own – perhaps _too_ well. Porom observed as Palom seemed to immediately know what element to use to utterly devastate the beast – he was slinging Firaga spells, which she found to be an unusual choice for a mage to go with as their gut instinct against both a cavern-dwelling and water-loving monster.

 _Most black mages would have gone with Thunder or Blizzard,_ Porom thought as she cast a healing spell through chattering teeth. _How would Palom know to go with Fire…?_

With one last spell, the octopus let out its death knell, and began to collapse into itself, the mucous bubbling on its overheated flesh as it began to melt into a black pool of sludge that slowly made its way across the lake. Palom spotted Porom and swam over to her, climbing up on the island and watching with satisfaction as the last of the octopus disappeared under the water. As fresh water made its way to the lake via the waterfall, the black sludge gradually started to thin out on its own.

"Hah! So much for sage trial number one," Palom grinned. Porom looked over at him, her face pale and her lips tinged blue as she reached up, bringing her hand across his cheek so hard that he felt the simultaneous sting of the fiery friction of her skin against his and the bits of ice that were still stuck to her fingers from the spells that had been cast upon her by the monster.

Palom reached up, screeching as he felt the throbbing skin of his cheek underneath his fingertips. "Ouch! What the hell was that for!?" Porom could only stare at him, her chest heaving up and down with haggard breaths. The realization had dawned upon her as soon as he started to swim back over to her with that stupid, cocky grin on his face.

"You had your eyes on that monster from the start, didn't you?" Porom asked, her voice cracking from a mixture of exhaustion and rage. When he didn't reply right away, she knew she had hit the nail on the head.

"You knew Tellah had problems with it, and you wanted to test your mettle on it for yourself. That was why you referred to it as a trial – twice now, by my count. You thought that if you could defeat something Tellah had defeated, it would give you a leg-up in your little quest, right? You knew what to do because of the stories he told you."

Palom didn't have the decency to look ashamed, although his smile did fade a little. "Yeah, something like that."

She looked away, wrapping her arms around herself to try to rub some warmth back into her limbs. Palom sighed, tapping his foot.

"What _now_?"

Porom bit her lip, still not able to bring herself to look at him. "Is that really the kind of thinking a sage would have, Palom?"

Palom's jaw dropped. _Was this a trick question?_ "Of course!"

It was so comical – she almost wanted to laugh, although she didn't have the strength or the lung capacity to actually make one come out. The Elder had granted Palom leave to take his first journey on his own, and _this_ had been the result. He hadn't changed at all – hadn't learned anything from that initial argument she had witnessed in the Tower of Prayer the morning of Cecil's coronation.

"Maybe you should think a little more about how to use your magic," Porom hissed. "I thought you wanted to help the people here who might get hurt by the beast – but you just were using your powers to try to one-up your dead mentor."

Finally, Palom's face fell, and Porom glared down at him, drawing herself to her full height despite the shaking in her muscles.

"Well?" Porom demanded, and Palom rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"...Yeah, yeah, yeah."

* * *

About a week after the twins had safely arrived back home in Mysidia, Porom had returned to the Tower of Prayers from the village marketplace, where she conducted her weekly chore of replenishing the tower's supply of curative items and classroom supplies. Handing her packages over to another mage who was preparing the classroom for an upcoming lesson, Porom trudged up the stairs of the tower to her private room.

It had only been recently that she and Palom had stopped sharing a bedroom – it had been a month and some odd weeks before they had traveled to Kaipo together that the big move had taken place. The Elder had recognized that they were rapidly approaching the age where the trials of tween-dom would soon become a little more embarrassing for each of them in different ways, and both Palom and Porom were quite grateful that he had made the realization before something awkward had actually happened in their remaining time as roommates. But as a result of each of them having their own space for the first time since, well, ever – they found that they had accidentally taken some of each other's stuff, and even now were still barging into each other's rooms to hunt for lost scrolls, books or clothes.

So, it came as no surprise to Porom when she walked into her room to find Palom standing there, riffling through the piles of books on her desk. But when she greeted him offhandedly and received no reply, she paused near her bed, watching with curiosity the way his shoulder blades had seemed to tense up when she entered, like she had caught him in some elicit act.

That was when her eyes fell to the book he had open on her desk – a dog-eared, battle-scarred and weather-worn leather book, the pages filled with her loopy scrawl. Porom felt her heart leap into her throat as she realized he was on the very last page of the journal – she couldn't be sure of how far he had read, but she knew exactly what she had written last – she had filled up the remainder of the journal on their voyage back home to Mysidia from Kaipo, and had not yet purchased a new one.

Palom looked up at her, his eyes dark and his cheeks flushed with what Porom could only assume was hurt and embarrassment. As she parted her lips to try to speak, he shook his head, cutting her off.

"So…this is what you really think, huh?"

"Palom…" Porom took a step closer, but in tandem, he took a step back away from her, toward the doorway. "…That's…private. You shouldn't have gone through my stuff like that."

"I was just looking for my Bestiary," Palom snapped. "It has the same cover as this stupid…tattle rag of yours. But I guess that doesn't matter to you – you just immediately jump to blaming me, like always."

"Palom!" Porom tried again, not liking the desperation that had started to creep into her tone. "I'm sorry. I write to work through my emotions – it helps ground me so that I can keep a level head for my studies. I don't always mean what I write at the time…it's just a way of getting things off my chest."

"You don't _always_ mean what you write, but that means sometimes you do, right?" Palom smirked. She saw him fuss with something on his right hand, tossing it to the floor. "If you find my book, just drop it off in front of my door – don't come in unless you want me to fry all the hair off that double-crossing head of yours."

He stormed out, slamming the door behind him so loudly that Porom could swear she felt the entire tower shake. Her eyes watering, she kneeled down to pick up what her brother had roughly tossed away, a sob catching in her throat as she turned it over in her fingers.

It was a simple gold-banded ring with a star shape that had plenty of scratches – something that any normal person would dismiss as a piece of junk not even worth melting down for the menial amount of gil it would fetch. The ring had been purchased as part of a set, which Palom and Porom had affectionately dubbed the Twin Stars. In one of their experimentations they had worked on together after the war, they had found a way to fuse identical objects with magical powers, allowing them to enhance the Twincast magic powers they already shared thanks to their childhood bond. The Twin Stars experiment had granted them access to the mysterious Twin Meteor spell, despite neither of them having the magical qualifications on their own to cast such powerful magic. Porom glanced down at her hand, where her own matching ring sat on her ring finger. It was only in slightly better condition than Palom's, but that wasn't saying much. She didn't think either of them had ever taken their rings off since the day they had cast their first successful Twin Meteor spell together.

Opening the top drawer of her desk, Porom deposited Palom's ring and picked up the journal. Even though she already knew what it said, she felt the need to twist the knife just a little bit more that had been lodged in her chest by the look in her twin's eyes as he had fled to get as far away from her as fast as possible.

 _My brother has taken things too far. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt with this trip, but…I realize now that was extremely foolish, perhaps even naïve, on my part. How can I possibly continue to place my faith and trust in him after what happened today? And worse yet…I think the Elder has been foolish, as well, for if he had not given in to Palom's begging, I would not have needed to bear witness to such hubris. I still haven't decided if I should tell him about this, or if I should just let Palom hang himself. One thing is for sure…I won't be cleaning up any messes for him any longer. I am done!_

 _If our parents could see us know…I wonder what they would say? What Palom doesn't realize is that things are better this way – he wants to believe that our parents are being prevented from seeing us, but it's been long enough that I know now that it's most likely that they simply do not feel like they have a place in our lives anymore – that they don't_ _want_ _to see us. I've seen enough in my short time traveling the world to realize that there are all sorts of people on this planet – people of light, people of darkness, children who hate their parents, parents who don't love their children. Maybe our parents never wanted us in the first place, and our magical powers were just a convenient excuse to exit from our lives…_

 _Anyway, I can't help but feel like they would be disappointed in us if they were still around. I can sense that with the Elder, his disappointment extends to even me when Palom is raising hell or causing him yet more angst, so why would it not be the same with our parents? Everyone sees Palom and I as a unit, not as two different souls. And as for Palom – how can he possibly love anyone but himself, with the way he acts? The perfect representation of our relationship, as it currently stands, was the battle against the monster in the underground waterway. I stayed in the shadows, supporting him, and he never once even bothered to glance back at me as he was bringing down the world around him. I feel like Palom will destroy anything to get his way – including me. He will never become a sage at this rate, and I will be glad for the day he realizes it, so that I no longer need to support his madness._

 _This journey has filled me with a bleakness I have not felt since the day of the Red Wings' massacre, when the Tower of Prayer echoed with screams that reached all the way to my room, and the scent of blood could not be purged from the crystal chamber for days after…_

Porom watched as a tear dripped down her cheek onto the page, and smashed the journal shut, shoving it into the open drawer on top of Palom's ring and closing it. After straightening the mess Palom had made on her desk, she walked over to her bookshelf and reached up, pulling down the Bestiary he had been looking for – she had known where it was the whole time. If only he had asked, she could have pointed him right to it…

Crossing the short distance across the hallway from her room to his, she gently knocked on his door, clutching the book to her chest.

"Palom…I have your book."

"Leave it outside," came a muffled voice from within. Was he… _crying_?

"Palom," Porom took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "Come on. Can't we talk about this?" She pushed down on the latch to his door, shoving it open. Palom whirled around, his eyes red like an albino rabbit's as he clenched his teeth, his fist swiping at a wet spot on his cheek before grabbing the rod resting next to his bed and pointing it at Porom's startled form.

"I warned you _not to come in_!" the crystal on the top of his rod began to glow with a warning red, and an overwhelming heatwave rolled into the tiny bedroom.

"Palom, I….AHHHHHHH!"


	13. Act Thirteen: The Exile's Tale

Act Thirteen: The Exile's Tale | The Unwanted

 _Mysidia, one day after the moon's return_

Porom traced her finger over the stain her tear had left in her first journal, still evident nearly ten years later. The black ink within the radius of the mark had turned a pale, smudged violet, little veins of color creeping up the final paragraph like spider webs.

Even now, she could recall how angry she had been when she wrote those words – the journey back from Kaipo had been filled with long silences, during which Porom could only hope her brother was thinking about not only the needless danger he had thrown them into, but what his true motivations seemed to be and how they conflicted with his supposed goal of becoming a sage.

But like with most other things, time had been the panacea for her wounds, and she had forgotten about her rage by the time Palom had stumbled upon the journal, only to have it reawakened all over again. But that time, she had become upset because Palom had spoken the truth when he stared into her eyes, utterly broken – yes, she did mean _some_ of what she had written – and now she had become as guilty and selfish as he by declaring her intent to no longer support him, the only blood relation she had left in this world.

Porom closed the journal and placed it into the drawer of her desk, which had since been secured with a lock. Held within were a few other treasured possessions, including Palom's old ring, which had become yet more tarnished with the years, and two other journals, one filled to the brim and then filed away to be forgotten, the other her latest that she knew was not even a quarter-full – she rarely had time to write anymore with her increased responsibilities and her frequent missions outside of Mysidia. The next volume, a pale pink book with some meaningless inscription that was supposed to be inspirational in nature, called out to Porom, and she glanced at the clock hanging over her bed. It had only just become the lunch hour, but she wasn't hungry, and with Meghan and Anja off in Baron with Ceodore and the hooded man, and the other students of the tower in classes, there was no one else around to pester her. The Elder's nurse was attending to his needs, and he had seemed to be in much better spirits that morning, despite the chaos that was awakening just outside of the tower's walls.

Cracking open the pink journal, Porom's mouth twisted into a small smile at the first entry – and she was reminded of the resiliency of children – a resiliency that she had seemed to lose more and more of as the years dragged on.

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I feel neglectful that I haven't written in so long, but to be honest, I also haven't missed my journal at all. It used to be that I couldn't go a day without writing, but after Palom and I's fight, I couldn't really bring myself to record anything that had happened – it was too painful and all felt rather pointless. Who will ever read this, after all? I hid my other journal until the Elder could find someone to install a lock on my desk, and was even tempted to burn it – but I realized that wouldn't undo anything that had happened, and was a useless act of vandalism._

 _But now that some time has passed, I feel all right when I think about what happened. Not happy, and not accepting…just all right. I've started throwing myself more vigorously into my studies than ever, which means I need a clear mind and unburdened spirit – writing was always my best outlet for achieving that._

 _I suppose there are some things that I have to get used to now – my new normal. One of those is having a twin brother who can barely stand to look at me. The Elder has told me that with time, Palom will get over it, although he does not know the exact origin of Palom's rage – he never told the Elder what I did to upset him, and quite frankly, I was too ashamed to tell the Elder, either. It has become the last secret we would share between one another._

 _Another change for me is finally being accepted into the next level of white mage training – where I will begin to learn the most advanced of spells, including being able to cast healing magic without actually using mana – a technique similar to using prayer to invoke a miracle. I was hoping I would get a chance to visit Baron and observe Queen Rosa, who has only grown more powerful since ascending the throne and can now not only restore the body, but also mana itself – effectively rendering a mage invincible – but I know she is busy ruling Baron and raising sweet Ceodore, whom I haven't seen in years. I wonder what he's like now? He's close to the same age Palom and I was when we first met his father...how odd that feels for me to write._

 _And then there is my new look…all thanks to Palom. For the first time in recent memory, his magic missed the mark when he attacked me in his room that day. I don't know what could have possibly gone through his mind as he casted the spell, and he claims not to know either – but instead of a Fire spell, he used some other kind of magic on me that ended up turning my hair completely pink._

 _Pink_ _! Bright, unmistakable, and the color of the potion we have to take when our stomachs have been violently ill – that is what I am reminded of now when I look at myself every day._

 _It was baffling. My scalp had felt like it was on fire, yet no flames had descended upon me, and the scream I had let out had pierced the entire tower, with some villagers telling me later that they could hear it all the way from outside. When the Elder had come rushing in, instead of looking horrified, he had to cover his mouth and try not to laugh. Palom's jaw was on the floor. At that moment, I finally felt brave enough to touch my head, but when I did so, all of my hair was still there, instead of falling out in singed clumps. When I caught a glance of myself in Palom's mirror, I screamed yet again._

 _Let me state for the record that I've disliked this vile color ever since I was a child. I was never sure why I held such an aversion to it, but perhaps it was because as the girl twin, it was expected that I should love it. I was always plied with pink-colored gifts and clothes as a child, but stubbornly stuck to the red and green rompers that Palom and I both loved. We shared the same favorite colors, and loved to dress so similarly that for many years, the Elder and other villagers had trouble telling us apart._

 _But now, you can definitely tell who is who in one swift glance._

 _After being examined to make sure nothing life-threatening had actually occurred, the Elder demanded that Palom change my hair back. But try as he might (or maybe he really didn't try at all – I guess I'll never really know), Palom couldn't undo what I've come to call "the curse". He claimed that his mind had went blank when he cast the spell, and that he couldn't remember what he had envisioned that had made the odd effects of his magic come to pass._

 _The Elder says that most likely, my hair will return to normal when it grows out. He's ordered Palom to research how to undo the curse in his "spare time", which means it will never happen. But, I'll hold onto the hope that a cure is forthcoming, and deal with it in the meantime. The worst part has been the snickers from the other students – I feel like no one is going to ever take me seriously again._

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _It's been a month, and my hair is still pink. I've been measuring it obsessively every week, and I swear it is half an inch longer. But the hair at the top of my scalp is as pink and shiny as all the rest – maybe even more so._

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _It's been four months, and my hair is definitely longer now – about down to my shoulders. Palom has been growing his out too. But while his is still a warm chestnut brown, perhaps just a bit lightened from being out in the sun for days on end, mine is still stubbornly, utterly…pink. He has started coming around to me again, greeting me in the morning and biding me good night when we retire for the evening…but he says he still hasn't figured out what happened with the curse._

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I continue to grow out my hair, but to no avail – I think it's time to accept my fate. Both Palom and I's hair is now down to the middle of our backs, but there has been no change. It has been a year since we returned from Kaipo._

 _If I can't change my hair, I guess the only option I have left is changing my attitude about the whole situation. I'll embrace it – obsessively, if need be. I've been saving up my allowance, and have shot up at least a foot in the past year, so I need to buy new clothes anyway – that will be my starting point. Maybe I'll ask the seamstress in town to make me something that goes with my obnoxious hair; something that doesn't look like any clothes my brother owns…something that the old Porom would ever wear._

 _I'm beginning to think that Palom secretly wanted to sever the last remaining tie we had – our appearances – when he cast that spell. Maybe the thought of him looking at me and seeing his own reflection made him sick._

 _Well, it worked._

* * *

Unlike her previous journal, as time had passed, the entries began to get more and more sporadic – some spanning days, others months. At a minimum, Porom had tried to record her achievements in her studies – as those were what were most important to her – but those entries consisted of only a few lines before she reached the point on the page where her pen had started to leave dark blots from where she had pressed it to paper, hoping to write more, but having nothing more come to her.

Porom flipped through the remainder of the journal, humming under her breath. The last entry in the pink journal was dated only a couple of years ago, and spanned many pages. She realized it chronicled the very last journey she and Palom had taken together. It hadn't been a mission – just what she had thought would have been a much-needed day among friends after a stressful season of exams and trials – and she had been excited that Palom actually agreed to it. They had still not returned completely to how they had once been before that awful fight, but this was as much progress as their relationship had managed to make in all those years, and she was grateful.

But she had realized later, that as always, he had ulterior motives…

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Today is the day! Everything has been arranged, and we are to meet Cid outside of Mysidia at exactly nine. It's been so long since I've seen our friends that I can't stop my hand from shaking even as I write this. I think even Palom is excited – I heard him up and about before I could even drag myself out of bed, and he NEVER wakes up before me. I expected him to be as exhausted as I after our exams yesterday, but he obviously has boundless energy..._

Porom crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a sigh. She was waiting in the meadows outside of Mysidia, taking in the early morning's sunshine that was pouring over the newly-blossoming spring flora that was finally rising from the snowy mud pit the meadows turned into during the winter months. She glanced behind her once again to look at the village gates, her lips dipping into a frown when she saw no one was coming, nor that anyone was loitering about.

 _Where did Palom run off to this time? Our first trip to Mist in years, and he decides to pull a no-show on me._

The sound of airship rotors broke through the still air, and Porom gazed up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the glaring sun. "Hmm?"

The Falcon was gliding over Mysidia from the west, the freshly-polished cherry wood as resplendent as ever, glittering like crushed rubies against the perfectly clear blue skies with not a trace of clouds to be seen. Hanging from the bow of the ship was the familiar silver drill Porom knew had been used to dig out a portal between the Overworld and the Underworld during the war, but now was apparently used by the dwarves for drilling rock underground to use as building material for their growing castle and city-states.

 _And now look who's here!_ Porom thought. _Palom…hurry up!_

As the Falcon began its descent, Porom narrowed her eyes and kept her arm paused over her face as rapid wind from the blades of the rotors crashed into her, whipping her ponytail back and causing her white and pink cloak to flutter in the wind like a princess' gown. She heard the crash of the ship's ramp hitting the ground, and a rotund figure appeared at the top, waving at her before barreling down, the ramp giving slightly under his weight as he sprinted.

It was Cid Pollendina, the Baronian chief engineer, Cecil's right-hand man, and occasional babysitter of the twins when they had been children. Porom was taken aback to see that in the time since they had last seen each other, Cid's beard had gone from rusty orange, a shade that which could only be replicated when an entire forest was aflame, to pure and white as the driven snow. Clenched between his massive teeth was a red lacquered pipe that was beautifully carved, but didn't appear to have any tobacco in it. He wore his usual shop clothes, a blue sleeveless coverall that was stained with oil, dirt, and gods knew what else, his trademark red goggles strapped over his eyes and his thick leather belt full of tools dangling from his stomach. Even through the film-ridden lenses of his goggles, Porom could see Cid's eyes grow large as he approached her.

"Porom!? That you?"

Porom nodded, smiling. "Yes. The hair is a bit startling, right?"

Cid shook his head, laughing. "Yow! I didn't even notice the hair – you've completely grown up on me, girl! You're way taller than me – why, you look about Rosa's height now, although you've got legs for days – I still think most of Rosa's height is her hair. Sorry to keep you waiting! Didn't mean to!"

Porom flushed, waving her hand. To even be mentioned in the same breath as Queen Rosa was far too much a compliment. "Oh, not at all. I should be the one thanking you, preparing an airship for us and everything."

Cid grinned. "Actually, you're the one helping me out here. I just upgraded the Falcon for Giott, y'see. It needed a test flight or two anyway." He watched as Porom glanced over her shoulder, the smile on her face flickering until it faded into nothingness, as if someone had reached out and pinched the wick of a burning candle.

"...I suppose he's not coming."

Cid tilted his head. "Mmm? Didn't hear you, dear. The ship's engines make my ears ring a little more than they used to, nowadays."

Porom turned back to Cid, shaking her head. "No, it's nothing. Thanks again." Cid gestured for her to follow him, and they made their way to the Falcon's ramp.

"So!" Cid pulled his pipe out of his mouth, tucking it into the breast pocket of his coverall. "We're headed for Mist?"

"That's right."

"Oooh, wait'll you see Rydia! She's more beautiful than ever now, y'know!"

Porom giggled. In his golden years, Cid had sure developed an appreciation for the fairer sex – it was absolutely adorable to see. "I'm sure she is – it's been quite a few years since we last met."

"Ha ha! You'd certainly give her a run for her money though, Porom," Cid winked and waggled his finger. Porom blushed deeper, her hands flying to her cheeks.

"Oh, Cid! Don't flatter me like that!"

"I don't ever lie to women, Porom! That's the ever-lovin' truth!"

"In that case, thank you very much."

Porom sat down on a crate as she watched Cid mess with all of the dials and controls whose function she couldn't even begin to describe, simply content to just sit back and let the magic happen. The girl could summon a holy flare of light and decimate an entire colony of monsters with one strike, but preferred to keep her hands out of any technology, which went entirely over both her and her brother's heads, like most typical Mysidians.

After a few moments, Porom could hear the engines roar to life, and the ship shudder beneath her. Cid looked over his shoulder, both of his hands in position on the wheel. "Ready to go, then, my dear?"

"Yes!" Porom smiled. She clung to the sides of the crate she was sitting upon, giddy as she felt the ship begin to lift in the air.

"The Falcon's a dream to ride on now!" Cid shouted. "The upgrade's really done the trick this time!"

"It's amazing!" Porom called back. "It barely feels like we're moving! I bet someone could stand during takeoff, now!"

"I bet," said a voice from behind her.

Porom whirled around, shocked to see her brother standing before her. He was dressed in his usual green and white striped pants, billowing navy overcoat and green and white scarf that was tossed cavalierly around his neck. His hair was pulled back into a long braid that reached his waist, his shaggy bangs pulled away from his eyes with a mythril and yellow sapphire headband that he had started to favor as of late.

"Palom! What're you doing here?"

Palom raised his eyebrows. "What, am I supposed to report every little detail of my life to you?"

Porom blinked, not quite sure what to say to that. She had no idea what she could have done to make him angry – she hadn't even seen him since last night, and they had gone to bed on good terms – confirming the time they were going to meet in the meadow. What had crawled up his arse and died between then and now? Palom giggled with just a hint of malice and put his hands on his hips.

"Hah! Can you believe this girl, Cid?"

Cid, still standing at the wheel, shook his head without looking back at them. There was no way he was going to play along with this little game. "Now, now, Palom. You really oughta treat the women in your life better, y'know. Like I do."

Palom shrugged. "I would happily, if the woman in question doesn't spend all day giving me lip."

Porom's nostrils flared, and she nearly dove across the crate to throw Palom down to the deck and give him a merciless beating. Instead, she dug her fingers into the crate so hard that she could feel the tarnished twin star ring she now wore on her pinky imprinting itself against her skin. Looking away from Palom before that sickening smirk of his could make her change her mind; she focused her attention on Cid's backside, speaking in a dangerously quiet drawl. "How long has Palom been onboard the Falcon, Cid?"

Cid felt a shiver run down his spine; he knew Palom was in for it now, but he simply couldn't bring himself to cover for the kid, especially not after the way he had just heard him speak to his sister. Trying to keep his voice as light and casual as possible, he practically whistled his reply. "He paid me a visit over in Baron, actually..."

"What?!" Porom shot up from the crate like a rocket, grabbing Palom by his scarf and pulling him so tightly against her that they were nose-to-nose. "Palom, you crossed the Devil's Road into Baron?"

Palom gulped, and Porom watched as a single bead of sweat trailed down his temple. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"You can't just go through the Devil's Road without telling anyone, Palom! What if something happened to you in there? Then what?"

 _So that was why I had heard him moving about this morning! He was sneaking to unseal the Devil's Road before anyone could catch him!_

Palom's face drained of color as Porom began to shake him, but the smirk never left his lips. "Yeah, yeah. What are you, my mother now?"

Porom frowned, dropping Palom's scarf and letting her hands fall to her sides. They proceeded to glare at each other, neither willing to be the first to blink.

Cid flinched. He had never heard such vicious arguing between kids before, not even when Cecil, Kain and Rosa would brawl throughout their angst-ridden, hormone-driven adolescence. "I know you're a rebellious teenager and all, Palom, but come on!"

"It has nothing to do with that!" Palom barked, his eyes still not leaving Porom's.

Cid laughed nervously. If he didn't diffuse the situation soon, he reckoned that he would either have a twin thrown overboard, or there would be an explosion. If he was a betting man, he would put his money on Porom winning in both scenarios. Putting on his best "aw shucks Grandpa" voice, he shook his head. "Hah hah hah! So I guess the two of you are really growing up, aren't you?"

"One of us is," Porom hissed, and Palom bared his teeth in reply.

* * *

 _Mist is one of the most peaceful places I have ever been. The village itself is completely cut off from the rest of the world, save for anyone traveling by airship or those who attempt to reach the village via the Mist Cave north of Baron. As soon as you cross the village bounds, an overwhelming sense of calm washes over you – I can practically feel the magic of the summoners of times past swirling at my feet._

 _I know that once, long ago, this village was protected by a summoner and her Mist Dragon eidolon, and her presence had allowed the village to thrive, quietly raising up the future summoners who would go on to fight alongside eidolons from the Feymarch. When she passed away in the Baronian raid Cecil and Kain had accidentally initiated, the only summoner that was left in the village after the catastrophe was Rydia._

 _Rydia used to live in the Feymarch, but now she lives among humans again, taking up residence in the now fully-restored village as the one full-blooded summoner left in the world. She has been nothing but kind to my brother and I throughout the years, and I think I would have enjoyed fighting by her side, if the fates had allowed it during the war. Alas, I can still be grateful that our paths even crossed – and it was all thanks to Cecil._

 _I've often thought about how he has brought so many wonderful people into my life…how does one even begin to return such a favor, especially to someone who already has everything one could want in this world?_

Crossing the village green, Porom practically squealed when she saw Rydia, who managed to look like a goddess doing something as simple as reaching up to pick fruit from a tree. Cid hadn't been exaggerating – she really had just gotten more beautiful in the years. The summoner's hair had grown far longer since Porom had last seen her, hanging down her waist in loose waves that had once been tightly-coiled curls when her hair was much shorter. Her face was as pale and unblemished as ever, the same color as the ivory on piano keys that made her emerald-flecked eyes pop. Porom called out to her, waving excitedly. "Rydia! How wonderful to see you again!"

Rydia jumped in surprise, accidentally dropping the fruit she had grabbed and looking up at her visitors. "Palom! Porom!"

Cid pouted. "Hey! Don't forget about me, girl!"

Rydia bent down, grabbing the fruit from the ground and taking a huge bite out of it as she walked over to them, shaking her head. "You come here all the time, Cid."

Cid laughed and blushed. "I guess so…but only on official Baronian business, you know!" Palom and Porom shared a rare, non-hostile look of disbelief between them.

Rydia looked the twins up and down, taking another bite and chewing slowly as she shook her head and muttered to herself with her mouth full. On anyone else, it might have been off-putting, but when she flicked her tongue out to catch a drip of fruit juice from running down the side of her mouth, both Palom and Porom practically melted from how adorable it was. "My goodness, you two _are_ all grown-up now, aren't you?"

"I'm glad to see you in good health, Rydia," Porom smiled. Rydia tilted her head, trying to get Palom's attention – he had turned away, his hands shoved in the pockets of his coat.

"And how are you doing, Palom?" Rydia asked sweetly. Palom's ears turned red.

"Uh...okay."

Rydia giggled and finished off her snack, casually brushing her nectar-stained fingers over the hem of her leotard. "So, what brings you here today?"

"We just thought we'd pay you a visit since it's been so long," Porom explained. "We're on a break from studying for the spring – the Elder lets us get out a lot more nowadays."

"Well, thank you very much! Take your time here. It'll be lovely to have you," Rydia smiled, spotting the leather journal under Porom's arm. "Are you still writing? That's wonderful – I remember how feverishly you were scribbling at Cecil's wedding all those years ago. I've got an awesome spot you can hide away in if you want to relax away from the boys for a bit!"

Palom cleared his throat just as Porom was about to accept Rydia's offer. "Listen...I know we just got here, but I got a favor to ask."

Porom whipped her head around so fast that she nearly smacked Cid in the face with her ponytail. "Huh?"

Rydia blinked. "What's that?"

Palom crossed his arms over his chest. "I wanna go to the Feymarch."

"What!?" Porom gasped. She turned to Rydia, whom she expected to immediately shut down the request. Even Porom, with as little as she knew about the world of summoners and Eidolons, knew that the Feymarch was not a place for humans – Rydia had been a very special exception, being that Leviathan had _kind of_ kidnapped her and taken her there on his own when he had wrecked the ship she was sailing on. What Palom was asking was simply impossible at best, and rather disrespectful at worst.

But instead of immediately telling him off, Rydia's lips curled into a secretive smile that set off sirens in Porom's mind. "…I didn't realize you were interested in the Eidolons."

"It's for my training," Palom added. Porom clenched her fists.

 _Rydia is not…entertaining this, is she!?_

Rydia cocked her head. "You're trying to become a sage, aren't you?"

Palom flustered a bit, much to Porom's surprise. "W-well…I mean…I wouldn't say "trying", but..."

"Well then, maybe a quick visit would be good for you."

Porom bit down on her lip. "Rydia!"

Palom blinked. He hadn't expected it to actually be that easy. "Are...are you sure?"

Rydia nodded. "I haven't been back lately myself. Why don't we all go and take a look around?"

Cid, completely oblivious to the mounting tension that was about to make Porom's head explode, pumped his fist high in the air. "This is a job for the Falcon, then!"

"I'll be right back, I'm just going to grab my whip!" Rydia exclaimed, turning and running back into a house that was a few yards away, presumably her own.

Porom turned to her brother, her cheeks flushed. "Palom...this is why you came to see Cid in the first place, isn't it? You were trying to get him to take you to the Underworld behind my back?"

Palom grinned wickedly. "'Bout time you figured it out."

Porom looked away, willing herself not to cry. That was why Palom had been so bummed she had showed up on the Falcon and had picked a fight. She wasn't supposed to be there in the first place, according to his grand scheme. The three of them stewed in awkward silence until Rydia came back, huffing for breath but smiling widely, whip in hand.

"Let's get ready to leave, then. You'll be joining us, right, Porom?"

Porom's eyes never left the ground. _It's not like I'm wanted, am I?_

"I..."

Palom patted her on the shoulder condescendingly. "I'm sure she'd rather stay here and hold down the fort."

She flinched at his touch, shrugging her shoulder away and cutting her eyes toward him as she turned to Rydia. "I'm going, too!"

Palom clicked his tongue against his teeth, looking away from the others. "Hmph…"

* * *

 _On our way to the Feymarch, Rydia asked Cid if we could stop by the Dwarven Castle to visit King Giott and his family. Everyone seemed happy about the idea, except for Palom, who didn't say anything. When I told him it would be good to see Princess Luca again, he looked up at me with eyes as wide as the full moon and a face that was just as pale._

 _"I'm, uh, not really looking forward to that," he muttered so that only I could hear._

 _Oh? Really now?_

"Cid! Well, well, well!"

King Giott, ruler of the dwarves and father to Princess Luca, stood from his throne and opened his arms. Not bothering with ceremony, Cid skipped the bow and threw his arms around Giott, both of the men laughing so hard that the entire throne room seemed to tremble. Seeing Cid standing next to a dwarf made Porom question if Cid was really entirely human – the two men had far more features that were shared than not – lack of height, plenty of girth, and miles of beard, for starters.

Cid guffawed. "I haven't seen you in a dog's age, King Giott."

Rydia swept into a low bow, the tendrils of her hair brushing the stone floor. "How are you doing?"

King Giott beamed. "I'm fit as a fiddle, Rydia!" He and Cid let go of each other, and Giott turned to the twins. "And who would this pair be?"

Porom curtsied, tugging at the sides of her cape. "It's good to see you again, Your Highness. I am Porom of Mysidia..."

Palom folded his hands behind his head. He was never one for behaving properly in front of royalty – but he had come a long way from his childhood habit of jumping on every throne he came across, so at least he was progressing somewhat. "And I'm Palom."

Giott laughed. "My! How could I not have known! You've grown so much, both of you!"

"Are they here!?" a high-pitched voice squealed. Palom jumped a foot in the air, and for once, it was Porom's turn to smirk at his discomfort.

The throne room doors flew open, and Princess Luca appeared. Much to Porom and Palom's surprise, gone were the silky gowns and layers of jewels that Luca usually traipsed around in – today she was in a pink shop romper that was still in pristine condition – she was the "before" to Cid's "after". Her explosive red hair had been cut, too – it had used to hang in long pigtails down her back, and was now cut down to a bob that framed her chin with delicate waves. It was swept out of her eyes by a matching pink visor that she had tilted to the right.

Rydia clapped her hands together. "Luca!"

"Hey!" Luca exclaimed, bouncing up to Rydia and lifting her off the ground in a tight hug. She then followed suit with Porom, and didn't take notice as Palom backed away a few inches. "Palom and Porom! Cid, too!"

Porom smiled, patting Luca's back as the princess set her back down on the floor. "It's great to see you, Luca!" Luca turned expectantly to Palom, who looked away and raised his hand as if greeting Luca was an afterthought.

"Ah, er...yo."

Porom waited for Luca's expression to fall in disappointment, but instead, she merely turned away and extended her hand to Cid, who shook it vigorously. "You've managed to become a stylish little lady since I last saw you!" He exclaimed.

Luca twirled around in a circle. "Do you like it? I was never a fan of dwarven fashion, really. This is much easier to get around in! And my hair was getting too long – it would get caught in my tools and my projects, so I chopped it all off."

Giott settled back down in his throne. "So, what brings all of you here?"

"Well, we were hoping that Rydia could take us to the Feymarch," Porom explained. "And she had the wonderful idea to stop by and say "hello" to you all."

"We're going to there as part of my sage training," Palom said, crossing his arms over his chest. Out of the corner of her eye, Porom saw Luca look away from Cid and stare at the floor, pretending to adjust her visor.

 _I've got to grill Palom later,_ Porom thought to herself angrily. _He must have said something stupid to Luca the last time he saw her…I just know it._ Despite her brother's best efforts to be a total sneak, she knew there had been at least a few occasions where he had seen Luca without her, and she was sure that on at least one of those occasions, he had taken advantage of Luca's crush on him and went on to do something stupid to break her heart.

Giott nodded. "Is it, now? Well, I appreciate you paying us a visit, then. Feel free to stop by anytime you please. You are family to every dwarf in the Underworld."

Palom nodded, although he clearly hadn't been listening to a thing Giott said – his eyes were already trained on the door. "We'd better get going."

"What? You're leaving already?" Luca lifted her head, frowning.

"How _rude_ of you, Palom!" Porom glowered. Palom turned to face her, gritting his teeth. She couldn't help but enjoy how he was trying not to lose his temper in front of Giott, who out of all the many kings Palom knew, was definitely the one you didn't want to make mad.

"We just came to say hello, _Porom_."

Rydia took Luca's hands in her own. "We'll come back soon, Luca. I'm so sorry – you know how it is with the Feymarch. Time is of the essence for these kinds of things."

"I'll go with you!" Luca protested, glancing up at Palom and then quickly looking away. "I mean, I should be checking out the Falcon, anyway – Cid, you made some improvements for us, right?"

Palom raised his hands before Cid could speak. "Hey now, let's not get carried away…" Luca whirled around to her father, clasping her hands together and talking loudly over Palom's protests.

"You don't mind, do you, Father? I want to ride on the airship!"

"Luca!" Giott sighed heavily, pressing his fingers to his forehead, an expression Porom imagined he practiced many times a day with a daughter as strongly-spirited as Luca. "I don't want you getting in their way!"

Palom raised his voice to protest louder, but Cid "accidentally" stomped on his foot, and Palom yelped and stumbled backward. Porom hid her mouth behind her hand, trying not to make it obvious that she was dying of laughter. "Ah! Interested in the airship's upgrades, are you? I'd expect nothing less from the dwarven princess!"

"So it's okay?" Luca blinked, and Rydia nodded.

"Sure. But only as far as the Passage of the Eidolons, okay? You know the rules."

Luca leapt in the air. "Wa-hoo! Thanks, you guys!"

Giott shook his head, but he was smiling. As much as he didn't care for his daughter's interest in airships and the human world, he couldn't deny how happy she was when she was with her friends – and how happy it made _him_ to see her finally come out of her shell after years of being an isolated princess. "Well, that's wonderful, Luca. I tell you, all this child talks about is you guys. And you wouldn't believe how she goes on about Pal…"

"Aaagh!" Luca shrieked, frantically shaking her head. "Hey, hey whoooa! You don't know what you're talking about, Father! Ahahahaha…"

* * *

Back on the Falcon, Rydia was helping Cid navigate to the island that the passage to the Feymarch was hidden away on, and Luca, Palom and Porom were standing at the rear of the ship, awkwardly staring at one another. Finally, Luca cracked a smile in Palom's direction.

"So…how've you been?"

Palom blushed, looking away. "Uh, okay..."

"What're you being so shy for?" Porom asked, just a hint of saccharine in her otherwise cool tone.

"Sh-shut up! I am not!"

Porom and Luca looked at each other – but now Luca was frowning again. Porom felt awful – maybe she shouldn't have tried to provoke her brother into acting like even more of an idiot. Luca reached up, twirling the one recognizable accessory she still wore from her childhood around her fingers nervously – a finely polished string of pearls that she had hidden underneath the collar of her undershirt – an heirloom from her mother, if Porom remembered correctly.

"So you're really trying to become a sage..."

Palom looked up at her, his lips pressed together. Right then, Cid called out to the three of them from the steering wheel, thankfully interrupting another painful stretch of silence.

"We're almost there! Prepare for landing, everyone. Luca, you come and help me."

"Okay!" Luca called back, taking one last look at Palom before walking away. Porom grabbed Palom's arm as soon as Luca's back was turned, dragging him into the stairwell that would have taken them down to the ship's hold.

"Ouch!" Palom hissed, yanking his arm away and smacking at Porom's hand. "What is it?"

"What is the matter with you!?" Porom whispered. "Tell me the truth – what did you do to upset Luca?"

"Nothing!" Palom cried. "You've been with me the whole time, haven't you? Just because I want to get on with my training, doesn't make me a bad person!"

"Ha ha ha – not right this moment, you imbecile. How stupid do you think I am? What did you do to Luca _the last time_ you saw her? I know you've seen her when I haven't been around – if I had to put my money on it, I'd wager you steal away to Baron when you know she's going to be with Cid."

Palom's cheeks, which had been red with rage just seconds ago, paled so rapidly that Porom knew she had hit the mark exactly – it was as if someone had tossed a bucket of white paint over his face. She folded her arms under her breasts, raising her eyebrows.

"Uh…" Palom scratched his head. "Do I really have to talk about this with my twin sister, of all people?"

"Keep it light on the details," Porom growled, trying to maintain her ice-cool demeanor while simultaneously suppressing the urge to shudder and throw up at the same time.

"Jeeze…" Palom looked away, running his fingers through his hair. "It's just that there have been times where I've needed to run a few errands with her airship…"

Porom could already feel her teeth grinding. "Uh-huh?"

"And, you know…sometimes it's easier to convince her when I remind her of how much she likes me."

Porom blanched, shielding her mouth – she was sure it was hanging open so wide that you would be able to see her tonsils. _If there was ever a time for the gods to strike me dead, please let it be now – I can't believe what I'm hearing!_

Palom paid her no mind – it felt kind of good to confess, now that he thought about it. He waggled his finger, smiling crookedly.

"Don't get the wrong idea – it was all good, innocent fun. We didn't get _that_ serious. But…it still had to end when…"

"…When you were done using her!?" Porom shrieked, her hand still covering her mouth being the only reason why the rest of the occupants of the Falcon hadn't come running to see what was wrong.

"…When my training started up again," Palom glared. "I can't have a girl tying me down while I'm traveling around the world. It would cramp my style, you know? It's definitely not what Tellah would do. He was like fifty years old before he had Anna!"

"Ooooh, we are _light-years_ away from invoking Tellah's name as part of this conversation," Porom sighed. "And your math is probably wrong…but I digress. So you broke it off then, right?"

"Well, I mean, I told her that I was going to start my sage training up again soon, and…"

"And you _broke it off_?!"

"…I just said, "See you later", you know? Can't burn all my bridges."

Porom heaved a sigh, staring down at the pink ribbon from her sandal that had started to come undone. There was no way she could bear to look at him right at that moment, so she knelt down to tie it, muttering. "You're a pig. Don't you know what it means when you tell a girl "See you later"?"

Palom shrugged. "Thanks for the memories?"

"It means you will, at some point, see her in the future!" Porom hissed, standing back up again. "And the future is now! What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," Palom snapped. "So back out of my business and take your big nose with you, eh? I'll take care of things with Luca when you're not around to meddle."

"Oh, I'm not meddling," Porom glared, turning to walk away. "I'm just really disappointed. You've done some really scummy things before, but this is the lowest yet."

"Yeah, yeah, like you're so perfect," Palom snickered. "Are you that bored with your sad little life that you have to interfere with mine?"

Porom paused, her breath caught in her throat. As much as she wanted to turn around and deck Palom right in his pathetic, weasel-like face, she found herself overcome by an even more powerful emotion than the fury that had started to boil under her skin.

It was fear… _the fear that he could very well be right._

The Falcon made its landing, and Rydia, Palom and Porom gathered at the ramp, their respective weapons in-hand in case any monsters lurking in the passage to the Feymarch had a death wish that afternoon.

"All right, Luca. You'll watch over the ship with Cid, right?" Rydia smiled.

Luca frowned. "Are you sure you don't want me to come along? Porom? Palom?"

Porom looked away, terrified that if she looked Luca in the eyes, the princess would somehow derive all of the terrible things Palom had said just by looking at the guilt that had to have been seeping from her pores. She should have said something to Luca as soon as Palom started mouthing off – leaving Palom to fix things later was like handing a toddler a flamethrower, and really, what loyalty did she owe him at this point anyway? Her friend didn't deserve to be treated like this – obviously she and Palom weren't on the same page about how things – whatever those things were – had ended.

 _I'm a coward_ , Porom frowned. _Why can I never truly side against Palom, even when he's being a jerk?_

Palom, surprising everyone with his gentle, but firm tone, shook his head. "We're here for training, Luca. If something happened to you in the Feymarch, your father would never forgive us. He heard Rydia tell you that you were not to enter."

"Right-o," Cid said, slapping Luca's back so hard that she nearly stumbled over. "We'll just run some maintenance on the Falcon while we're waiting. There's a few issues with the engine I gotta do something about."

Luca looked up at Cid reluctantly, her mouth turned down. "Okay…"

"We'll be back soon," Rydia said. "I promise."

"See you later!" Porom offered, trying to inject herself with some fake cheer.

"Sure thing!" Cid waved. "Good luck!"

Luca raised her hand, smiling weakly. "Hang in there, Palom!"

"Okay, okay, already!" Palom sighed. "Let's get this show on the road."

The three of them exited the ship, and Cid started to pry the cover off one of the panels in the ship's main dash, clicking his tongue as set it aside and leaned in to take a closer look.

"Hmmm...what's up with this thing? I don't see anything wrong with it. Everything seemed to work fine up in the Overworld..."

Luca stared after Palom's form until he disappeared through the mouth of the cavern that made up the passage to the Feymarch, and turned toward the open dash, pressing her lips together. She reached down, retrieving a magnifying glass from the tool belt cinched around her waist, and leaned in to take a closer look.

It was subtle, but she could see tiny black flecks engraved over the wiring inside – like there had been some sort of short that had occurred. Tapping the magnifying glass against her gloved palm, she frowned. "Hmm...You think maybe the heat from the magma is causing problems?"

* * *

 _The passage that leads to the Feymarch is akin to traveling the road to Hell. The floors are covered in bubbling magma, which acts as the sun in the Underworld – I had to cast Float on everyone so we could safely cross through. The ceilings are draped in long, rope-like spider webs that Rydia said are woven by Arachne, half-spider and half-maiden monsters who drop onto unsuspecting weaker monsters and inject poison into their bodies before yanking them back up into the ceiling. Even Palom nearly tripped in surprise when he heard that, and I saw his eyes fly straight up to the ceiling. Even though it hurt my eyes, I glanced down at the glaring magma a few times and noticed that every once in a while, a bone fragment that I could not tell once belonged to human or monster would bubble to the surface and jostle around a bit._

 _Rydia gave us a mini history lesson as we made our way deeper and deeper underground – she explained the different origins of the Eidolons, and how the All-Father of the Eidolons, Bahamut, lived in a dark, desolate cave on the second moon that disappeared from orbit after the war had ended. For once in his life, Palom kept his mouth shut and let Rydia talk without interruption or interjection – I think he absorbed every word that came from her mouth. Rydia told us that she had learned a lot about Eidolons from her mother when she had been alive, but that most of her education had come from the massive library in the Feymarch village._

 _"It has thousands and thousands of books, and even if you read in there every day, you would never finish them all before you died," Rydia giggled. "The Eidolons are voracious readers, and they were so shocked that humans knew how to read too – to have a hobby in common like that brought me close to many monsters down there!"_

 _The smile on Rydia's face as she spoke of the Eidolons was so bright that it could have lit our way had the magma not been aglow under our feet. She talks about them like they are her family – and although I cannot exactly call myself an orphan, I think I know exactly how she feels – I think the same type of smile must surely appear on my face when I talk about the Elder to those who do not know him. I even get the impression that Rydia is more comfortable with Eidolons than she is with humans – I wonder why she decided to come back to the surface world all those years ago if she is so happy here. She was happy when we met up with her in Mist, but…not like this._

Rydia paused as they exited a tunnel and came upon a new chamber, which appeared to be a dead end. All Porom could make out was a pale blue rune, barely lit against the splintered wooden boards it had been carved into. The boards themselves were miraculously intact even as they floated upon the magma, a few jagged nails bobbing in and out of flow and glowing pale orange.

"What's this?" Porom blinked. Palom stepped up next to her, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering despite the sweltering heat.

"The Eidolons...I can feel them!"

Rydia touched her fingers to her mouth a moment, as if to shush them. She stared intensely at the rune, her eyes so wide and dark that Porom could see the blue light reflected within. Finally, Rydia dropped her hand to her side, weakly shaking her head.

"What's wrong?" Porom asked softly.

"The training ends here," Rydia said, all traces of the dreaminess that had been in her voice moments ago vanished. Palom snapped out of his trance, whirling around to face her.

"Whaaat!? But we've come all the way down here and everything!"

"Is there a problem, Rydia?" Porom reached out, resting her hand on Palom's arm comfortingly. She could feel how tense his muscles were, and when she glanced down at his hand, she saw his fist tightly clenched – but he didn't pull away from her touch, much to her surprise.

Rydia frowned. "The Eidolons are not found of humans going into the Feymarch. Plus, once you enter the Feymarch, time starts to flow erratically."

Palom shook his head. "You mean...?"

"If you spend too long in the Feymarch, you'll wind up out of sync with the human world and everyone you know. Are you willing to risk that?"

Porom widened her eyes. What in the world did that mean? It sounded…dangerous.

"I am!" Palom cried, and Porom gasped.

"Palom!"

 _You can't be serious…!_

"If we go in for just a little bit, that won't put us too out of sync with human time, will it?" Palom begged. Rydia shook her head.

"I can't say..." She set her mouth in a straight line, nervously twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "…I think it is best if the two of you wait here."

"You're going in!? Lemme go with you!" Palom demanded. Rydia shook her head harder, giving her foot a stomp that was useless in proving any kind of a point when she was floating a few inches in the air.

"No! I'll be right back. _Promise_ me that you won't follow me inside, okay?"

Porom looked down. She had no idea what was going on, but the desperation in Rydia's tone had been frightening. Never in her life had she seen the normally serene and logical woman before her engage in any kind of panic like this. "All right. We'll wait here for you."

Surprisingly, Palom didn't argue. Rydia stepped into the rune, her eyes wide and her voice shaking as she gazed at the twins. "I'll be back as soon as I can…"

And in a flash of light, she was gone.

Palom glared at the rune, putting his hands on his hips. "Sheesh. Why'd she even bring us here if she was gonna do this at the very end?"

Porom didn't know how to respond. She still couldn't get her mind off of what had Rydia said about the erratic flow of time. If Rydia had spent as much time in the Feymarch as she said she had, did that mean something had happened to her while she was living there? Had _Rydia_ fallen out of sync with the rest of the world? And if so…to what extent? She _seemed_ perfectly fine – and she was as healthy and as powerful as ever before. True, Porom would go for months at a time without seeing her, but when they would meet up again, she could see noticeable changes each time – Rydia definitely looked more mature and elegant now than she had been when she was the fresh-faced but still hauntingly beautiful sixteen year-old she had been when Porom first met her. She was aging normally…right?

Finally, Porom let go of her brother's arm – she wasn't too concerned about him running off after Rydia anymore – he still seemed to be in shock at being told "no" by someone. "Palom...Why do you think Rydia brought us here in the first place?"

Palom raised his eyebrow. "Why? Well, because...Hmm. Good question, actually." He looked up at the ceiling, as if the answer were written up there.

Porom twisted her mouth in thought. "Maybe she wanted to test our hearts...?"

Palom frowned. "Maybe...but…I don't know. Didn't it seem like she had something else on her mind when she agreed to take us in the first place? She was awfully agreeable."

"I suppose I noticed that too," Porom mused. "Did we do something to change her mind…?"

There was another flash of blue light, and Rydia appeared before them once more, her eyes red-rimmed and her hands shaking.

"Whoa!" Palom stumbled back.

"Rydia!" Porom blinked.

Rydia refused to look up at either of them, staring intensely at her boots. "Sorry to keep you."

"Keep us? It was just a few _seconds_ ," Palom frowned. He and Porom looked at each other.

"Right…" Rydia trailed off.

Porom took a step forward. How long had Rydia thought she had been gone? What could have possibly happened in a few seconds to make her be like this? "Rydia...?"

"It's all right...everything's fine," Rydia finally said, stepping off of the rune.

"But..." Palom began, and Porom quietly shook her head, whispering over his shoulder.

"Palom, no."

Rydia sighed, pulling her hair away from her neck and twisting it over her shoulder so that it cascaded down the front of her body in one long, emerald waterfall, like ivy climbing an ivory tower. "I...I'm sorry. We'd better get back to the Falcon. Cid and Luca are waiting for us."

"OK," Porom said, glancing back at her brother. He was still staring at Rydia, his mouth agape. Realizing that the twins were waiting for her to take the lead once more, Rydia marched out of the chamber, her hands still entangled in her hair as she willed herself not to cry.

* * *

Back on the Falcon, the three mages had silently and unknowingly entered into a pact about how to answer any probing questions as they climbed back up the ramp. Luca spotted them first, pushing her goggles up onto her forehead.

"Oh! You're back!"

"There you guys are! How'd it go?" Cid asked. He was sitting on the deck, bolting a panel back onto the dash.

"Great..." Rydia lifted her eyes, a small smile gracing her lips. "Everyone's doing well."

"Get a lot of training done?" Luca brushed her dirty gloves off on her pants.

"Um...yes. Definitely." Porom looked away.

"You bet we did!" Palom exclaimed. Porom cringed at how uncharacteristically cheerful he sounded. But when she glanced up at Rydia, she could see the summoner smiling at them both gratefully.

Luca was completely oblivious to the sour mood that had descended on the Falcon. Instead, she let out a peel of excited laughter. "Well, guess what? I just made a big decision of my own!"

"Huh?" Palom tilted his head. Cid grinned, his cheeks red with excitement.

"Luca is one talented girl, she is! She diagnosed an engine problem that not even I could figure out! I gotta hand it to the dwarves. The way they approach technology is like nothing I've seen before!"

Luca blushed, waving her hand embarrassedly. "So we talked for a while, and we decided that I'm going to be Cid's apprentice!"

"Really!?" Porom exclaimed, not only extremely happy that something good had come out of Luca's day after all, but that the announcement provided a much-needed distraction from the disastrous training session.

"That's great, Luca!" Rydia squealed, running to her and giving her a big hug. They grabbed hands and started to jump up and down and scream, making the deck shudder beneath them. Poor Cid was rolling about like a ball as he tried to climb back to his feet.

"Will King Giott let you?" Palom muttered, and Porom let out a hiss, gifting him with a forceful yank on his scarf. If she happened to choke him at the same time…so be it.

"Way to spoil the mood, Palom. What are you, jealous that all of a sudden something more interesting than you has come along?" He turned to glare at her, replying with a thrust of his middle finger.

Cid finally managed to get back up, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Whew…Are you ready to go? Take up your position, Luca! Your apprenticeship starts right now!

Luca grinned, flouncing over to the steering wheel. "Aye-aye!"

* * *

There came the sound of slow, shuffling footsteps that Porom could hear through the crack in her door – she had left it open in the event anyone might call out for her. In one fluid motion, Porom slipped the journal back into her desk drawer and pushed it shut, twisting the key within the lock with a purposeful "click". She withdrew the key, dropping it into her pocket. She felt a little embarrassed that she had spent most of her day embroiled in reminiscence, particularly with the threat of the twin moon hanging right outside her window and the knowledge that poor Ceodore was likely suffering – and she was stuck in Mysidia, not able to do a thing about it. She could only pray that his companion – whoever he was – would keep him safe.

Glancing up at the clock again, she was shocked to see it was already well-past noon, and as if to emphasize the passage of time, her stomach let out an obnoxious gurgle. She pressed her hand to her abdomen, her face twisting in embarrassment as she peered into the hall – but whoever had been coming her way had stopped somewhere else – perhaps in Palom's room to open a window or dust.

It had been a month since her brother had left for his latest solo mission, and neither the Elder nor Porom had heard a word since the morning he departed. Even with the strain in their relationship, Porom still had powerful intuition when it came to her twin's well-being – she didn't necessarily have faith that he would make good decisions, or at a minimum, wouldn't be reckless, but if she concentrated and called upon all of her spiritual strength, she could just barely feel his pulse palpitating within her own body, like a second heartbeat. If an interruption even as gentle as a butterfly landing on her shoulder occurred, she would lose the connection – but it had always been there for her to call upon, even in her earliest memories. She knew Palom had the same connection with her – although she admittedly never thought about asking him how often he might have used it – or if he even _could_ anymore.

Porom leaned her cheek against her hand, closing her eyes. The morning Palom had left, he had been in a poor mood, as was expected since he was being forced to do something he didn't want – he had been really adamant about not going to Troia and made it very well-known at every opportunity that he felt Porom should have gone instead. Despite that, Porom had made an effort to see him off at the docks after the Elder had said good-bye in the tower. As she watched him board his ship, the sea breeze tossing his hair away from his face, she raised her hand, the early morning's rays catching the gold star wrapped around her finger. Palom stared down at her, his eyes narrowed – she wondered if the glare of the ring was shining in his eyes, or if he was _still_ irritated. An immense wave from the early-morning tide crashed into the side of his vessel, drowning out his words as he opened his mouth to speak. Even though Porom couldn't hear him, she thought she had managed to read his lips before he turned away to disappear within the ship.

 _"_ _See you later…"_


	14. Act Fourteen: Porom's Tale

Act Fourteen: Porom's Tale | The Restless Heart

 _Mysidia, one day after the moon's return_

 _Palom...I guess you've arrived in Troia by now. And here I am, stuck in Mysidia all by myself..._

"Are you there, Porom?"

Porom raised her head in surprise, opening her eyes. Standing in the threshold, his hand slightly trembling against the door, was the Elder. She wondered if he had been the one she had heard walking in the hall – even though he had been doing much better when she saw him over breakfast that morning, she was shocked to see him actually up and about. Ever since the day he had collapsed nearly a month ago, he had been barely able to utter his directives to Porom each day without gasping for breath, let alone stroll down the hallways of the tower.

"How are you feeling, Elder?" Porom asked, quickly rising from her chair. He smiled, taking a few careful steps further inside her bedroom.

"Oh, no worries. I feel fine today."

"That's wonderful..." Porom trailed off, her eyes drifting toward the open window. She suspected that he wasn't being entirely truthful – she had a feeling part of his "recovery" had to do with how concerned he was about the return of the second moon. She had gotten the report from his nurse that when the Elder had met with Ceodore, he had seemed fearful for the boy, urging him back to Cecil's side. He had somehow known Baron was in imminent danger, even without having been made aware of the horde of monsters Ceodore had witnessed bearing toward his homeland. Physically, he was ailing, but his intuition had remained as sharp as ever.

"What bothers you, my child?" the Elder asked gently, and Porom shook her head, finally giving the pale white curtains framing her window an aggressive tug to block the view. There was nothing for her out there except the looming specter of the second moon. It infuriated and terrified her for the same reason – she felt totally powerless.

"Nothing," she lied, and was surprised at how easily the deception rolled off her tongue. Maybe she wasn't as different from Palom as she liked to think she was.

The Elder followed her gaze to the now-covered window, tilting his head. "You wanted to travel to Troia instead of Palom, am I right?"

Porom pressed her lips together. "I don't know anymore..." If she had been chosen to go to Troia, would it had really changed anything that had happened in the past few weeks? If she had gone in Palom's place, what would _he_ had done for Mysidia while the Elder wasted away? It made her develop an ulcer just thinking about it – and had been one of her only comforts about him leaving instead of her.

The Elder tried again, sensing that he was getting closer to the heart of her concerns. Even though Porom had always been an open, honest child, he knew that it took some prying for her to reveal her true feelings when she felt the most vulnerable – he knew she hated exposing that part of herself to anyone, let alone him. "Are you _worried_ about Palom?"

Porom raised her eyebrows. "Well..." The Elder clapped his hands over her own, and her eyes widened – they felt so small and brittle, like a pair of cowering baby birds – she wondered when the tables had turned and when her strength had started dwarfing _his._

"You want to go off on your own, do you not? Just like Palom?"

"Elder?" Porom bit her lip. _What is the meaning of all this?_ She supposed they really hadn't talked since he had fallen ill, but…she thought she had done a fairly good job of keeping herself inconspicuous and hadn't wanted to hinder the Elder's recovery with her devastation at Palom being picked over her. She told herself it was just a bruised ego – and all that really mattered was that he get well again, so that he would be his old self for when Palom came home. Maybe then they could try to go back to normal – perhaps in his absence, Palom would realize that they _could_ be how they were before if they _both_ made the effort.

"I realize I never entirely answered your question, my dear – and you've been on my mind much as of late. You still want to know why I sent Palom instead of you." It was simply a statement, and not a question – he already knew what her response would be, after all.

"I-I suppose I do," Palom half-whispered.

"I acknowledge Palom is a rare talent. There's little denying that between the two of us, eh?"

Porom nodded. Yes, that was certainly not news – she had spent her whole life bearing witness to his greatness, after all. And it wasn't exactly a secret between the two of them – the whole of Mysidia was enthralled by Palom's powers as equally as they hated his salty attitude. To say he was a polarizing figure in their little village was the understatement of the century.

"Well, be that as it may, that is _not_ why I sent him to Troia. In respect to magical talent, there is nothing he can offer the Epopt trainee that you could not – black or white magic, it truly matters not in the end – it's spiritual fortitude that ultimately determines if an Epopt is successful in her post or not – such is the price of any of us who serve the crystals. But what Palom is…well, he is still young. You two are the same age biologically, but spiritually, you are lightyears beyond him in maturity. _That's_ why I sent him on this business. There is much for Palom to learn through teaching others, and I felt that _this_ particular opportunity was the right one for him."

Porom squeezed his hands gently, looking down at her feet. She desperately wanted to know what exactly it was about _this_ particular request that made the Elder recognize that this was best for Palom, but she didn't have the audacity to ask him to elaborate. She wasn't sure why, but hearing the explanation after all this time almost made her feel worse. While Palom was gallivanting about and improving himself, she was left in Mysidia to rot and stagnate?

"I see..."

The Elder shook his head. "You're worried, aren't you? Worried that Palom will leave you behind someday."

Porom felt her eyes begin to sting, and she turned away, dropping his hands and pressing her fingers to her lips. "Perhaps." _He is well on his way, is he not? He began to pull away from me long before that first terrible fight…that was just the catalyst that finally pushed us onto our separate paths._ She reached up, unconsciously twirling a lock of pink hair around her finger. The Elder watched as she retreated into herself, shaking his head. _So, that was it._

"You two have been together your entire lives. As siblings, as friends, and as rivals...But more importantly, when you look at each other, you see yourselves – your victories, your failures, your strengths, and your weaknesses. Is it any wonder you two are drawn together at times but just as thoroughly repelled during others? It's a pattern often found in nature – not just among humans."

Porom nodded slowly. A hand had lifted the veil of darkness, letting a single beam of realization shine forth. "…Yes. You are right. When I see Palom, I see a man who wishes to achieve his dreams, no matter the cost…his confidence is intoxicating, but his arrogance repulsive. I see what I hate…but what also seems to elude me." She shivered, a sad smile forming. "I guess you would call that jealousy...he's known from such a young age what he wants, and I…well, I really know nothing, huh?"

"I'm sure you will find your own path to walk sooner or later, Porom," the Elder reached up, grasping her shoulder. Now, his grip felt warm and capable – just like when he would comfort her as a child. "The best thing to do now is to think about what that path might be. And do you know what is miraculous about paths?"

Porom tilted her head. "What?"

"Once blazed, they never truly fade away – whether others follow to further deepen them, or a path surrenders to the annals of time, your soul will always be impressed upon it in a way that even nature cannot expunge. So, if a path is not correct now, one can always follow it back home again – and retread later, if the time becomes right. With each morning you greet, you are a slightly more evolved version of your previous self; everything about you, down to the most molecular level, has changed since the night before. Is it any wonder that you do not quite know which direction to take yet in your short time on this planet?"

Porom nodded, feeling her cheeks flush in relief. Maybe she wasn't as bad off as she originally feared? And when the Elder put it that way…it meant that perhaps her tumultuous relationship with Palom could still change as well, right? Whatever it was that kept them repelling, they could eventually evolve past and adapt to together…?

"Yes, Elder!" she smiled gratefully, turning to throw her arms around him. He smiled back, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead, just like she always imagined like a mother or father would do when their child came home crying and hurt. She had never known if her own parents ever did that – all of her memories of them had long-faded into oblivion.

"There is no need to rush yourself. And when you feel ready, I promise that Palom will be there to support you – yours is a bond that is unbreakable, even if it is under some duress right now. You've been good to him, even if _neither_ of you realize it – love at times manifests itself in ways we do not expect, and we can mistake it for something else."

Porom nodded, pulling away. She wasn't quite sure if she had really been as good of a sister as she _could_ have been, but she had been trying to redeem herself for stomping all over his dreams – the Elder was not one to flatter anyone with insincerities, so perhaps she did owe herself a little credit for her efforts.

He took a lingering look over her room, drinking in the piles of books that seemed to take up every free inch of floor space, her unmade bed (a rare, troubling sight), the baskets of laundry that had been long-neglected, and scratched-out, crumpled to-do lists that had overflowed from the wastebasket.

"You've done much for the Tower in my absence, Porom. I'd like you to take in a change of scenery for a bit – it may do you some good. Perhaps a walk in the village is in order."

"Er…" Porom flushed, suddenly embarrassed by the state of her harried existence being exposed. "I do have some other chores I should complete yet today, Elder." She had let herself get distracted by Ceodore's appearance and her nostalgic wallowing, and she didn't want the Elder to think he needed to start taking up his duties again so soon – one half-day of relative wellness did not mean all of his strength had returned.

"Don't worry about it," the Elder said, shaking his head as he began to walk away. "They are all things that can wait. Get some fresh air and come back with a clear mind and unburdened heart. We'll have much to discuss as it is with our new visitor." He glanced toward the window again, and Porom nodded soberly.

 _Palom…hurry home. This is something we should be facing together…isn't it?_

* * *

When Porom returned to the Tower of Prayer, she ran into the Elder's nurse, who had been sweeping the hallway. In the classroom, Porom could hear a bevy of children reciting spells in order of progressing strength, and the croaking of one obnoxious toad. Either one of the children had let their pet loose, or one of them had become the victim of a typical early-level black magic prank.

"Fire…Fira…Firaga…Blizzard, Blizzara, Blizzaga…Ribbit!"

"Do you know where the Elder is?" Porom asked over the children's' chanting. She had been out for much longer than she had anticipated – once she had physically left the Tower of Prayer and started wandering around, she found that she was not too anxious to return. It had been nice to get a taste of the early summer weather, and lots of friendly faces were anxious to say hello and ask her how she was holding up with Palom being gone so long.

 _Just fine, thank you very much._

"Resting upstairs," the nurse smiled. "He did ask that he not be disturbed for the time being…"

"Understood," Porom nodded. "I'll be in my room if you need anything."

As Porom entered the hallway behind the crystal chamber that lead to her and Palom's rooms, she paused in front of Palom's closed door across from her own, her heart pounding. She could count on one hand the number of times she had been inside since that fateful afternoon when he had attacked her – just standing where she was made her scalp tingle. And even though this had been the longest they had ever been separated, she couldn't help but feel like he could see her even now, peering over her shoulder with that irritating smirk and _daring_ her to disobey him.

She gently pushed the door open, cringing at the creaking sound it made as it swung inward. Much like her room, it was covered in clothes, books and various instruments – rods, empty potion bottles, and enough accessories meant to enhance magic power that would make a queen's wardrobe envious – but she knew that his room was always like that, whereas hers had only gone into recent decay. His bed was exactly as he had left it, the sheets thrown back and spilled on the floor and the pillows tossed aside. Someone had been inside at some point to at least air it out – the window was wide-open, with white sheer panels that matched her own fluttering in the breeze.

 _Palom…_ Porom took a few steps inside, pressing her lips together as his familiar scent drifted around her – soap and the last remaining notes of an obnoxious, citrus-based cologne he started soaking himself in when he was a teenager. Closing her eyes, she pressed her fingers to her chest, focusing only on the flow of her blood as it pushed in and out of her heart, picturing the flowing red as it rushed through the canals of her body.

Moments later, she could just barely detect it – a second heartbeat reverberating with her own, bumping along in the same rhythm; foggy, shadowy hallucinations dancing behind her closed lids. Flickering lights shined on ivory walls, footsteps echoed in a hallowed hall, tumbling waves fell down a receding figure's back. A strange warmth began to spread in her chest, and she could feel her pulse flutter.

 _He's safe…! I wonder what he's up to…_

"Lady Porom! There you are."

The illusion shattered, and Porom plummeted back into herself. Her eyes snapping open, she whirled around and was surprised to see the Elder's nurse, her brows knitted.

"Didn't you hear? The Elder is calling for you."

 _"…Porom…!"_

The voice was coming from above – which could only mean the Elder had enclosed himself in the prayer dais.

 _Even unwell, he continues to pray for the planet…_ Porom frowned as she pushed past the nurse and began to sprint up the spiraling stairs. _He shouldn't push himself…_

Porom burst into the uppermost spire of the Tower of Prayer, pausing in the doorway to catch her breath from racing up the entire tower of stairs in one lengthy dash. Although she was pleasantly surprised to see the Elder still vertical – he didn't look at all drained or hunched with exhaustion – she was more so surprised to see Anja and Meghan returned from Baron, each standing a few feet behind him and exchanging troubled looks. When had they snuck in?

"Welcome home, you two. What is it, Elder?"

The Elder shook his head, gesturing for Porom to join him in at the full-length window he was gazing through.

Porom peered outside the window facing south, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the glaring sun. At first she thought the Elder had been watching the twin moons, the new arrival seemingly larger than it was yesterday, but his chin was tilted down, his palms pressed against the glass. "Elder…?"

"The dragon…it's crying," the Elder rasped, his voice weakened. Porom frowned, redirecting her gaze toward the shoreline instead. Even from their distance high in the tower, she could see the white waves of the ocean churning with agitation, swirls of water crashing into each other in the early beginnings of a vortex.

"What!?" Porom gasped, smashing her face against the glass. The vortex gradually began to widen, and there was a tremendous crash that ripped through the sky – it sounded like thunder, but the skies were still crystal-clear. Meghan and Anja hesitantly approached Porom from behind to get a better look, gazing over her shoulders just in time to see a massive black and glowing red curved vessel emerge from the water, steadily rising in the air and casting a dark, twisting shadow upon the churning seas.

"The Lunar Whale!" Porom whispered. She had only seen the legendary Lunarian ship once before – when Cecil and the others had arrived home from the moon, triumphant over Zemus. It was not only the vessel that was the subject of the Mysidian Legend, but it had also been built by Cecil's father, Kluya – the Lunarian who had brought magic, airships and the Devil's Road to the blue planet – and whose soul was entombed on Mount Ordeals. When Cecil and the others had disembarked the ship, it had promptly retreated back into the Mysidian sea, its purpose in securing Kluya's legacy now complete and the moon to whence it had once traveled having left their planet's orbit.

 _Birthed from the womb of a dragon's maw_

 _And borne unto the stars_

 _By the light and darkness cast aloft_

 _Are dreamtide oaths resworn…_

A chorus of cries rang out from the four mages as the Lunar Whale's rear rockets suddenly burst to life, propelling the ship past the upper spire of the tower and disappearing into the atmosphere before any of them could blink.

"Where…is it going?" Porom gulped, and the Elder shook his head sadly.

Below, the seas had begun to calm once more – but clusters of villagers had rushed to the shore, and Porom could hear their cries of dismay carry on the wind.

* * *

The Elder cleared his throat, his trembling voice gaining strength as he gazed upon the crystal floating above them. "I have called all of you here to discuss a dire matter. As you have all witnessed, the Lunar Whale has risen, setting off in the direction of the new moon."

Porom, Meghan, Anja and the Elder were secured in the Crystal of Water's chamber, both the entry and exit doors locked shut to barricade any villagers or tower residents from wandering in. Meghan and Anja had caught Porom up with the briefing they had given the Elder upon their return – and what they had to share had left Porom even more shaken than witnessing the Lunar Whale's sudden ascension to the heavens.

 _Baron castle appears to be abandoned with nary a soul to be found inside, yet hypnotized soldiers that do not recognize Ceodore guard it with their lives. The villagers are clueless that anything is amiss, speaking only of a monster attack that they claim King Cecil saved them from. The Prince of Baron had a breakdown and under duress revealed his identity to the hooded man…_

 _Poor Ceodore – I was right, he was hiding his true self from that stranger – what is he going to do now that he has been found out? Where is Cecil, Rosa and Cid if not in the castle!? What's happening over there…?_

The Elder looked away from the crystal, his eyes falling upon Porom's. She couldn't help but shiver when she saw how void of light they had become, even bathed in the crystal's aura. "With Palom absent, I would like to call upon the powers of the dragoon."

Porom's jaw hit the floor as Meghan and Anja glanced at each other. "The dragoon!"

It had been a tall tale for many years that a solitary dragoon had been living east as a scavenger – although no one had seemingly ever gotten a good look at him or spoken to him. It being well-known that the Dragoons were originally the guardians of the royal family in Baron before evolving into the nation's on-ground military, the conspiracy theory that was most popular was that he was a deserter from Baron, and some went as far to name him as Kain Highwind, the former leader of the Dragoons – and King Cecil's best friend who had gone missing after the war.

"You mean the one rumored to be Kain Highwind?" Porom blinked, and the Elder nodded.

"The one and only. If the rumors are to be believed, we can find him on Mount Ordeals. He will be able to help us get to the bottom of what has happened in Baron."

Porom shook her head as Meghan and Anja muttered behind her. "But..."

"But what?"

"But if that's really Kain…it would mean that Kain has severed all ties with Baron – and by association, us, if your ultimate objective is to ally with Baron to investigate what is going on with the moon."

Anja cleared her throat. "Elder! This is certainly a serious matter that requires swift response…"

"…But surely Mysidia's army of mages would be sufficient for its protection!" Meghan protested. "Why do we need to call upon an outsider – one that may not even exist or be willing to ally with us?"

"Oh?" the Elder shook his head. "Perhaps you are too young to remember – there was once a time where I felt the same as you. But if those dreadful events of the past were to visit us again, we Mysidians would sacrifice much to gain little."

Meghan pouted, looking away. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a shadow dash behind one of the crystalline pillars – but upon looking closer, she saw it was just a gross toad that must had escaped from one of the classrooms.

 _No way I'm touching that thing – someone else will have to find their missing pet later._

Porom bit her lip. She could understand where the Elder was coming from – he was trying to save them from another massacre like the one Cecil had unleashed seventeen years ago. Surely Meghan and Anja had to realize that more powerful mages than they had been no match for the onslaught that awful day? Even now, Mysidia had not entirely recovered from the loss of those souls.

Porom shook her head. "Black magic is not a panacea for all our problems. Have you forgotten what the Elder taught us? Spiritual fortitude is foremost what we must be concerned about – saving lives instead of dreaming up plots to take them. If the dragoon really is Kain Highwind, he may know what is going on with the Lunar Whale or the moon – being that he has dealt with both in the past. And it would be safer for all of us if he could be our envoy to Baron, as well."

The Elder watched Porom quietly, his mouth pressed in a straight line. Anja rolled her eyes. Being a black mage, Porom was sure Anja did not like any portion of what had just come out of her mouth.

"Yeah, b-but..."

"How else should we respond to the moon's return?" Meghan shrieked. "If Palom were here, we would not be discussing such a ridiculous plan. We are practically gifting our lives to a phantom who could be friend, enemy, or non-existent."

"Elder..." Porom gently tugged his sleeve. Still, he did not look at her – his eyes were boring into Meghan's. Meghan huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, looking away.

Porom sighed. The Elder's plan required them to take a leap of faith, but she truly agreed that it was the best way to avoid the spilling of Mysidian blood. Yes, perhaps if Palom were around, the conversation would have gone differently – with her brother, they might have stood a chance if a battle were to break out…

 _But we can't depend on Palom for everything – not Mysidia, not the Elder, and not myself,_ Porom thought dejectedly. _If we really believe in the values that the Elder has tried to instill in us with our training, then now is the time to take action for ourselves and put those values to the ultimate test._

"I will travel to Mount Ordeals at once," Porom volunteered, and the Elder gasped, shaken from his daze.

"But..."

"Don't worry, I won't do anything rash."

The Elder's eyes fell upon Porom's. She met his stare head-on, straightening her spine and crossing her arms over her chest as if to dare him to name someone better to go in her place. After a few moments, he let out a shaky breath and shook his head. "Be careful out there. Whatever you do, remember to stay out of harm's way. Mount Ordeals accepted you once – Even I am not sure what will happen now – our world is in a terrible flux."

"Yes, Elder!"

"Listen, everyone. We cannot afford to hurry ourselves into an ill-advised plan of action. If there is no aid to be found at Mount Ordeals, we will come up with another plan – _together_."

"Yes, Elder," Porom, Meghan and Anja said in unison, gazing at each other warily. It already seemed to be an impossible ask…

"But in the meantime, I want you two to go with Porom," the Elder ordered, and Meghan and Anja, to their credit, merely nodded, although the disappointment was evident on both their faces.

"Yes, Elder."

"Prepare yourselves for the journey tonight, and make your leave tomorrow. It would also do you well to pray to the crystal for your safe passage – I, of course, will be praying as well."

"Yes, Elder."

Porom faced the two mages, a small smile on her lips as the Elder turned, unlocking the rear exit of the crystal chamber and beginning his slow climb back up the tower steps to ensconce himself in the prayer dais. When his footsteps had finally faded away, Porom drew a deep breath.

"We'll be fine – the light of Mount Ordeals will understand why we have come and we will not be turned away."

"I trust you, Lady Porom," Anja frowned. "It's the Elder I worry about – not us. You were right to remind us of our duty…I guess."

"With the three of us gone, who is going to ensure _he_ doesn't do anything rash?" Meghan sniffled. "He's likely to build a ship and fly to the moon his damn self at this point. He seriously wonders where Palom gets his stubbornness – he just needs to look in a mirror!" She blew her bangs out of her face and grimaced. "Do…do you really think the dragoon will help us investigate what happened in Baron? If he's there, that is…"

"If it's Kain Highwind, I have zero doubt," Porom said softly. She thought back to the Elder's words from earlier that day: _Love at times manifests itself in ways we do not expect, and we can mistake it for something else._ Cecil had loved Kain with all of his heart. Even when Kain had been brainwashed by Golbez, Cecil harbored hope that they would reconcile once more, and they had gone on to save the world together. Porom had always imagined that the mote of light in Cecil's heart that had never given in to the darkness and had blossomed on Mount Ordeals had belonged to his friends – he and Kain had been brothers in all but name. If Kain knew that Cecil was in danger, he would surely come back home.

 _An unbreakable bond…_

* * *

The next day, despite the butterflies that had seemingly hatched in her stomach overnight, Porom made her way through the morning at a leisurely pace, double and triple-checking that they had procured enough supplies to make the climb on Mount Ordeals and eating her breakfast slowly and methodically alone in her bedroom. When she finished eating, she rose from her desk to make her bed, taking care to tuck the corners of her bedding extra tightly and smoothing it over and over again with her palms until they had begun to ache from the friction of her cotton sheets.

Slinging her backpack over her shoulder with her mythril rod secured to it and taking one last look around the room, her eyes fell upon the drawer of her desk that had the silver-embossed skeleton key sticking out. With Palom gone, she had no concerns about anyone else in the tower rifling through her belongings – but what if he came home while she was away? Chewing on her lower lip, she twisted the key until the lock snapped open, and tugged open the drawer. She dug until she found what it was she was looking for – the second star ring that had been tossed away by its owner all those years ago. Slipping it over her pinky finger so that it stacked on top of hers, she slammed the drawer shut, locked it, and slid the key on top of her bookshelf, which was so high that she had to stand on her tip-toes just to reach it. When she stood back and gazed up, she saw it was completely hidden from view – at least for anyone else her height, like Palom.

The Elder had not yet risen by the time she, Anja and Meghan were prepared to depart – she guiltily assumed that he had been up all night praying for them in the dais, and decided to not bother him. It would be best if she got her mission over with as quickly as possible so that he could rest easy again.

She could hear her two companions talking from the tower entryway as she crossed through the crystal chamber, taking one last glance at the Crystal of Water as her sandals clicked with purpose over the glass tiles. For a moment, when her reflection flashed back at her from within the crystal, she swore she saw Palom's face – and felt the ring on her finger pulse with heat.

 _Never in my life did I think I would return to a place like Mount Ordeals without you by my side…all I can do is take what I have left of you, and pray that the mountain accepts me once more – I will not have you, Cecil or Master Tellah to guarantee my passage this time…_

"The toad got out again?! Who is the irresponsible knave that keeps setting it loose in the tower!? I'm going to have nightmares about waking up with that thing on my face!" Meghan's shrieks carried through to the crystal chamber, causing Porom to blink out of her melancholy reverie.

"Don't worry, I caught it and put it back outside," Anja said soothingly. "It's probably wild. Someone would have noticed if their toad was missing after all this time."

"It's disgusting…!"

 _A toad is not going to compare to anything you see on Mount Ordeals,_ Porom thought dryly. Oh, how different her journey to the holy mountain would be this time around…

* * *

"I feel like it's already getting dark," Porom frowned as they arrived at the base of Mount Ordeals, the three of them becoming draped in shadow as she spoke. Ahead of them, the gray, twisted mountain rose to the heavens and faded behind a blanket of dreary mist. A clear line of demarcation stood between the mountain's jurisdiction and the overgrown path they had taken to get there – the abundant greenery and evidence of life – bothersome insects, paw prints from beasts and the birdsong of the forest suddenly disappeared once one set foot on the gravel path that would guide them northward.

What had started off as a cloudy and windy late morning had become a near-lightless trek as they had made their way east across the Mysidian continent. Careful to stick to the winding dirt road through the woods that was little-used but ultimately led one to Mount Ordeals if you remained on it when it forked north, Porom was happy to see that they had managed to avoid the wreckage of the Red Wings. She wasn't sure if she could have handled the aftermath – seeing Ceodore's face when he described it had been far enough for her.

"I wonder if the storm we encountered in Baron is making its way here," Anja shook her head. "That would just be our luck."

"Then we best hurry," said Porom as she eyed a blackened, rotting husk of a tree a few feet away from them that had begun to violently twist in a gust of chilling wind. "The undead that plague the mountain will slow us down enough as-is. They seemed endless when I was here last…I'm sure it hasn't gotten any better in seventeen years."

"How can one man have possibly survived out here all this time?" Meghan shivered. "He would have to be scarier than the zombies at this point."

Porom looked down. She had never formally met Kain, but she hoped Meghan wasn't right – surely a friend of Cecil's would not be dangerous. If the Elder had believed that, he wouldn't have sent them…right?

"So what are we looking for, exactly?" Anja blinked. "Other than a dragoon, obviously."

"We will make our way to the summit of the mountain," Porom directed. "There is a shrine there that the dragoon may be taking shelter in. Keep your eyes peeled for any sign of life – and be on your guard. Anja, you take care of any skeletons or zombies with your Fire magic. Meghan and I will exorcise any spirits with Cure magic. Got it?"

"Yes, Lady Porom."

* * *

 _In all this time, nothing has changed. It's almost as if time has stopped…_

They were resting in the same campsite which Porom had shared with her brother and Cecil when they had run into Tellah. If the dragoon had ever set foot there, you wouldn't have been able to tell – the petrified, spiraling trees and decomposing brush that contained a disturbing number of bones – both human and monster, from what Porom could tell – still surrounded the ledge. Large slabs of broken stone were scattered about that must have fallen from the cliffs above, and any remnants of a fire had long since been blown away, if there had been one since the last time she had graced the mountainside.

 _Has anyone really been in that shrine since?_ Porom wondered, her eyes traveling northwest where she could see the outline of the ivory monument that was only a short climb above them now. _Surely, Kluya's spirit is at rest as well, now that his sons are at peace? There would be no other reason for him to remain on the Blue Planet after Cecil inherited his light…_

"Lady Porom!" Meghan exclaimed. She had emerged from a tunnel where she had been fending off a clan of Spirits and Souls, fire-imbued monsters that would latch onto a dying man's spiritual energy and use the corpse as an incubator until the monster could develop its own corporeal form. Porom glanced over her shoulder as Meghan approached, and Anja opened one eye from where she had been laying on the ground at Porom's feet, grunting at her nap being interrupted. "There is no end to these abominations, and no sign of the dragoon. We've nearly reached the summit – how long must we keep up this farce?"

"I just want to investigate the shrine," Porom said calmly, trying to understand Meghan's frustrations. She reached into her backpack, pulling out one of their last Ethers and handing it to her. "We would be remiss if we did not check for evidence there."

"No one can possibly be taking shelter in that shrine," Anja yawned, popping her other eye open now. "I saw it as we were climbing up – it's just a stone monument. A grown man couldn't even hide behind it."

"I have my reasons," Porom frowned, thinking about how she could possibly replicate the process for entering the shrine like Cecil had when he had fought his dark doppelgänger. "Please…I know I have asked much of you these past two days. If you want to stay here, I'll go up myself. I won't breathe a word to the Elder."

Meghan pouted. "Jeeze…you know just what to say to manipulate us. Obviously, we're not going to let you go alone."

Porom ignored that comment – she thought perhaps manipulate was a bit too strong a word – and stood up, brushing off the gravel that had been imprinted into her knees. Anja rolled over and climbed to her feet, sliding her straw hat that she had been using as a pillow off her of shoulders and back onto her head. A gust of sticky wind blew through the crossing, causing the wooden footbridge above them to sway and rattle warningly.

"Rain will be upon us soon," Anja frowned. "The air is thick with it now. My Fire magic is going to be a lot less effective if we have to deal with that too."

The three mages made their way to the bridge, where they each crossed one at a time, circumspect that it may not hold all of their weight simultaneously. Porom, the last to cross, bit her lip and forced herself forward one step at a time, her mind flashing back to the surprise attack one of Golbez's four elemental archfiends had launched in a final attempt to stop Cecil from becoming a paladin. It had been there that she and Palom had cast their first Twincast spell together, defeating Scarmiglione and saving themselves and Sage Tellah from certain doom. She remembered how intoxicating it had felt as the powerful black magic surged through her veins – through their bond, her brother had been able to gift her with something she would never be able to replicate on her own. She had long-accepted as part of her studies that she just wasn't cut out for black magic – she lacked the intense concentration and the will needed to manipulate what ultimately were spells meant to bring devastation. She had thought perhaps Palom felt the same way about the effects of white magic, and received a mutual benefit when he would Twincast with her – but then he had suddenly declared his intention to become a sage. If he learned both white and black magic as was par for the course for such a title, he wouldn't need her magic anymore.

As Porom stepped away from the bridge, her arms wrapped around herself, a flash of light suddenly ripped through the now dark-gray sky, surging through a lone petrified tree that burst into flame.

"What was that?" Anja gasped, and Porom noticed that the crystals that were embedded in the ground around the shrine had started to glow a pale blue. Approaching the shrine, she pressed her palms into the cold slab of marble and closed her eyes, trying to pick up on any energy that might have been coursing within. _Something_ had created that light… And it had been the same light that had cloaked Cecil when he became a paladin – as brilliant and delicate as moonlight reflected off a midnight-darkened sea.

"I don't feel anything," she whispered. She opened her eyes, gazing upon the faded inscription in the stone that she had been unable to read seventeen years ago, and was as expected, was even more so illegible today, now almost completely obliterated by the elements and the passage of time.

 _Kluya…your son may be in danger…and it looks like the rumors were wrong about anyone being on Mount Ordeals to help us…what am I supposed to do?_

Another flash of light burst forth, blinding Porom and forcing her to retreat as she ground her fists into her eyes. "Ahhhhh!"

She heard Anja and Meghan's cries fade into the background, and suddenly felt as if she been plunged underwater – she could no longer sense solid ground beneath her feet, and her limbs felt like they were drifting and bobbing independent of her control. A wistful but bereaved voice breathed in her ear, and she felt heart clench even though she could not understand the words.

 _I can hear something. It's fading fast, like it could disappear at any moment... It's a voice...one I feel I've known before!_

Porom's feet tapped against smooth, cold glass, and she felt her arms gently fall to her sides. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the same mirrored chamber where Cecil had become a paladin, the walls except for one encrusted with glowing crystals that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat. But the mirror that had once made up northernmost wall and had housed Cecil's dark reflection was nothing but a swirling void of darkness – something powerful had destroyed it, and shattered pieces of glass and crystal were everywhere, glittering in the pale light and casting rainbow prisms upon the floor and ceiling.

"What...!?" Porom gasped.

There came a shuffling sound behind her as Meghan approached cautiously, the glass crunching under her boots so loudly in the pure silence that it sent chills down Porom's spine. Behind her, Anja was staring at a wall of crystal, gently trailing her hand over the budding stems that pulsed with light beneath her fingertips. "Where are we?"

"What a mess..." Porom whimpered. "Something terrible happened here…it's not at all like it was before…!"

"Wait...could this be the place where King Cecil of Baron became a paladin?" Meghan blinked.

Anja lowered her hand, shaking her head. "... _And_ the place where Sage Tellah learned the forbidden Meteor magic, as well?"

 _"O gentle white mage..."_

"Ahhh!" Porom, Meghan and Anja screamed at once, making a dash to grab onto each other. Porom clutched the two girls' robes, her eyes darting about the chamber. Was the voice coming from the void of darkness…? It sounded so far away…

She could feel someone's fingernails digging into her arm painfully as the voice called out to them once more.

 _"Please do not fear…for I am about to fade...But my spirit...will never be extinguished…My sons have always believed in you…And now..."_

"That voice..." Meghan whimpered. "It's talking to _you_ , Porom!"

"It's Cecil's father..." Porom whispered, releasing Meghan and Anja and turning to gaze into the darkness. "And father to all we who study magic…" She shook her head, running toward the void and calling out.

"Kluya…! Please, Cecil needs your help...!"

But nothing happened, and no reply came. Porom let out a frustrated cry and cupped her hands around her mouth.

"Kluya! Tell me what to do!"

A sickening rush of air plunged into Porom's lungs, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself outside the shrine, once again on the summit of Mount Ordeals. Behind her, Meghan and Anja were doubled over, clinging to each other and gasping for breath.

And straight ahead, spilling forth from the bridge like a deluge of water in the crack of a dam, was a mind-dizzying horde of zombies, revenants and wraiths, all of which had their dead sockets trained on the three women. One of the pack leaders shuddered violently and projectile-vomited a mess of green and yellow bile toward Meghan and Anja, which Porom managed to block just in time with a Protect spell. The vomit bounced off the barrier and splashed to the ground, steam rising into the air as it began to eat away at the rock underneath, creating a blackened pit.

"Ugh, so gross!" Meghan wailed, and Porom backed up closer to them, holding out her arms. A crack of lightning pierced the skies, followed by the deafening rumble of thunder that made the entire mountain shake underneath their feet.

"Cover me!" Porom cried. "I'm going to wipe them out with Holy!"

Anja withdrew her rod, thrusting it into the air as she chanted a Fira spell. Ribbons of flames wove through the crowds of undead, catching their tattered clothing and rotting flesh on fire as the smell of smoke and festering decay began to rise on the wind. Porom closed her eyes and folded her hands together, trying to block out the chaos swirling around her so she could concentrate exclusively on the spell. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, she couldn't seem to manifest in her mind exactly what she needed – a powerful beam of light striking from the heavens, laying waste to all before them and bathing the mountain in divine energy. Instead, her mind spun dizzily and deviated rapidly between images that she didn't understand – one moment, she was gazing down at the sea from the heavens, fiery debris raining upon her from above, and the next she was running through the darkened tunnels of a cavern, her lungs about to burst from the effort. Porom could feel her muscles convulsing as she grabbed hold of her head, digging her fingers into her temples.

 _Why can't I cast the spell, and what are these visions!? Why is my body showing these to me?_

A spray of water smacked her in the face, and when she opened her eyes, she saw that the storm clouds had burst open, instantly drenching them in rippling waves of rain as the wind tore across the summit. The monsters that had not fallen to Anja's magic were miraculously blessed by the forthcoming storm that drowned their flaming appendages and allowed them to continue shuffling forward, their numbers swelling and forcing the three of them to fall back. Anja cursed and lowered her rod, clenching her jaw.

"Damn! Forget about Holy – start assaulting them with Cure magic!"

"Look at all of them! We're hopelessly outnumbered!" Porom whimpered, shaking her head. "I…"

Another flash of lightning illuminated the darkness, and for a second, Porom swore she saw a shadow fall from the sky, plummeting into the middle of the monster horde. A few moments later, the sound of rope snapping could be heard, and the bridge, now loaded with the undead, collapsed in on itself and plunged into the murk below. The shadow returned to the air, and the flash of steel blinded Porom as a lance plunged into one of the zombies from behind, causing it to crumble into dust before the weapon could even be withdrawn from the corpse. She heard a grunt, and a fist came flying forth, knocking another zombie's head clean off its shoulders with one punch. As the shadow turned to thrust its lance into another beast, a flash of blonde hair fluttered in the wind from beneath a helmet shaped like a dragon's head.

"Who the hell is that?!" Anja gasped, and Porom shook her head in disbelief.

 _Oh my gods…my prayers have been answered!_

"It's Kain!"

"What?" Meghan blinked. "How do you know!?"

"I-I just do!" Porom cried, a blush crawling up her cheeks. "The way he moves – it's just like Cecil – the same Baronian stance! And who else could fight as gracefully in the air as the leader of the Dragoons himself?!"

It was only minutes later that the horde was decimated, and with the bridge taken out by their savior, no more could approach. The zombies that were left behind on the other side stared listlessly, not quite sure what to do with themselves anymore, and either stumbled off the cliff in confusion or shuffled back from whence they came. Porom climbed to her feet and ran to Kain, who was standing with his back to her, holding his lance out to the rain to wash away the blood. Meghan and Anja stayed behind, weapons cocked in case they needed to intervene in the "negotiations" about to take place.

"Kain!" Porom shouted over the rain. He turned to face her, tilting his head. Beads of water slid down the snout of his helmet, which obscured the top half of his pale, ethereal face – Porom couldn't help but notice the delicate curve of his lips, stained the color of nightshade. She didn't know where to hold her gaze, since his eyes were hidden behind the glare of two unblinking, yellow cat's eye stones set upon his helmet. A ponytail of drowned blonde hair hung over his shoulder, nearly reaching his waist, and the scales of his dragon armor gleamed when lightning exploded in the distance, granting him the divine aura of the king of the seas himself, Leviathan.

"Have I seen you before?" he asked. His voice was deep, but wearied – it could have been soothing if it didn't have just the slightest note of acerbity at the end of each clipped, carefully enunciated word. Even in the howling storm, she could hear the subtle register of an aristocratic accent – she supposed it was possible Kain had come from a noble family if he was leader of the dragoons, but she had never really thought about it until now.

Porom shook her head, her bangs stubbornly plastered to her head from the rain. She was sure she looked as awful as she felt – she had still not entirely recovered from her odd spell of behavior from when she had been attempting to cast Holy. Now she felt dizzy and anxious, although she had no idea why – maybe she _should_ have felt afraid of Kain, but for some reason, she simply did not. "I am Porom, white mage of Mysidia."

Kain raised his eyebrow – not that she could see underneath his helmet – and his lip tugged up slightly into a smirk. "A white mage?"

"I suppose you don't remember me – my twin brother and I saw you from the Tower of Prayer when you came home from the moon after the war, but you wouldn't have seen us…you never came back inside, if I recall. At any rate, I came here to find you, by order of our elder. Do you remember him?"

Kain paused in thought. Once, long ago, Cecil had traveled with twins from Mysidia – it might have been on this very mountain. Whoever Cecil had been with, Kain had only been able to watch from afar – and his memories from those dark days under Golbez's control had nearly vanished from his mind – sometimes they were so faded, he only saw shadows and garbled voices. But he _did_ remember the Elder of Mysidia – he had never had a good feeling about the old man, but it wasn't like they had ever come to blows, and it was apparent he cared for Cecil deeply, even after Cecil had stolen their crystal and lead the slaughter of many of Mysidia's citizens during the war.

It was _funny_ how things always worked out for Cecil.

"…To find me? What for?"

"Well, to discuss the return of the second moon, for starters. The Elder fears that it is a premonition of something terrible to come – a powerful group of monsters has already struck down the Red Wings."

"...I see."

Porom lowered her head – why was he being so blasé about all this? Perhaps he just wasn't putting the puzzle pieces together? She stared at her muddied sandals, trying to remain calm. If she kept looking at his disinterested mouth, she might scream. "At this rate, Baron could be in danger soon as well."

Kain sheathed his lance over his back in one fluid motion, crossing his arms over his chest. "But tell me, what reason do I have to help you?"

"What?" Porom gasped. Meghan and Anja gave each other a knowing look that neither Porom or Kain noticed.

Kain shrugged, as if it were so obvious and that Porom was the dunce. "Baron ceased to be a part of my life a very long time ago."

Porom shook her head, her voice starting to shake. "That can't be true..." She gazed up at him once more, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Pardon?" Kain smirked, but his face quickly fell as he saw Porom's eyes begin to spill over with tears. Instead of hiding in embarrassment, she swept her rain-soaked hair away from her face and glared at him with even more intense scrutiny, closing the space between them so that her chest nearly pressed to his. Her matted ponytail hung down her back pathetically, her pink and white cape clinging to her form as a gust of wind crashed over them.

"You're _lying_! You're lying to me and to yourself!"

Kain gingerly reached for her shoulder, his fingers curling back at the last second as if her snowy flesh would burn to the touch. Porom's vehement cries had transported him back in time – he was back on the Lunar Whale, watching another white mage who would have been her age berate himself, Cecil and Edge as she was being informed her journey to the moon was about to be cut short.

 _"I'm not going anywhere! Without me along, who will heal you when you're hurt?!"_

Porom shivered from the wind as she wrapped her arms around herself, not noticing Kain's hesitation. "Am I wrong?"

"No..." Kain looked away toward the churning seas in the horizon that were as black as ink, holding his arm to his side as he smiled slowly, like something wonderful only he could see was being dangled tantalizingly before him. "Your eyes, just now…they remind me so much of the queen of Baron's. There's an exquisite light within when there is something you want – it's quite frightening to behold. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

Porom blinked, feeling as if the world around her was spinning out of orbit – she could barely keep herself standing – her legs felt as if they gradually petrifying. Desperate and terrified, she took hold of his face, forcing him to look at her. "Then, _please_!"

Kain gazed down upon her, cringing at the stinging sensation a ring on her pinky finger was imprinting upon his skin. It wasn't exactly how he had pictured his homecoming, but he supposed this was fate's way of moving things along – the moon had been the first sign, and perhaps this little stranger was the second. And if Porom was right about Baron being in danger, it meant that everything he had been working toward all these long years might be taken away from him for good – and well, he simply couldn't have that.

 _This time, Rosa…I'll prove my worthiness. I didn't understand before, but…everything is clear to me now. It feels as if I have awoken from a long nightmare…_

"Let's go. Baron awaits!"

Porom smiled in relief, a tear sliding down her cheek. _I did it, Elder! Now both Mysidia and Baron will be saved!_ Promptly dropping her hand from his face, her eyes closed as her legs gave out from beneath her.

* * *

"Mmmm…"

"Are you awake now?"

"Lady Porom!"

Porom moaned and pressed her cheek against something warm and firm. The scent of lavender mixed with rain roused her consciousness as she slowly opened her eyes, her fingers instinctively flexing and digging into what felt like metal-plated latex.

"Huh?" Porom blinked, her vision focusing. She was staring at a sinewy neck covered by a curtain of corn silk hair, and realized for the first time since waking up that her feet weren't touching the ground – her thighs were wrapped around a slender waist and were being held in place by a firm grip – Kain's.

She had been draped over his shoulders like a knapsack, her arms dangling down his chest. When she lifted her head, she saw that they were more than half-way down Mount Ordeals, and that the rain had ceased. The sky was still dark and the light of the twin moons was hidden behind a thick wall of clouds. Marching along on each side were Meghan and Anja, who were staring at her concernedly.

"I-I think I can walk now," Porom flushed, and Kain stopped, bending down silently so she could climb off his back. She held her arms out for balance as she slowly rose to her full height, her heart pounding. "What happened?"

"You had a horrible fever," Meghan frowned. "Every spell I tried did absolutely nothing!"

"Kain took us over the crossing since the bridge went out," Anja added. "We hid away in a tunnel until the rain let up. You haven't moved an inch the entire time – it was like you were comatose."

"I'm sorry…" Porom shook her head. "I really have no idea what happened. I feel totally fine. It's not like I was in the rain _that_ long…"

"You don't have to apologize," Kain frowned. "But we should keep moving."

"Of course," Porom nodded. "Thank you…for everything."

Kain waved his hand dismissively and kept walking forward, Meghan, Anja and Porom scrambling after him – one of his long strides counted for two of theirs.

When they reached the last sloping path that would take them off the mountain, Porom stumbled over a rock, her head spinning as she tried to right herself before falling. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion – even her voice seemed delayed from the time she parted her lips to cry out.

"Ugh…!" A sharp pain ripped through her abdomen to her chest, her heart feeling like it was about to explode. It was as if someone had taken an ice-tinged knife, plunged it deep inside, and had then yanked up to thoroughly gut her. Anja and Meghan gasped, breaking away from Kain as Porom started to sway dangerously on her feet. She let out a pathetic wail, her eyes sliding shut as she fell to her knees, clenching her stomach.

 _Oh god…it hurts!_

"What!?" Kain whirled around, stunned into a stupor at the scene before him.

Porom could only whimper as a burning sensation abruptly overtook her right hand. She slowly raised her palm and was shocked to find that the two star rings adorning her pinky finger had turned a hot white, as if they had been tossed into a fire. A fleeting vision danced before her eyes – long, braided hair, a crooked smirk, and sad, searching brown eyes that mirrored her own in every way, down to the flecks of blue in their irises. When she blinked, the specter went away – along with all of the pain that had suddenly ravaged her body. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, but otherwise, she was back to normal.

 _"Porom…"_

Porom lifted her head at the sound of her name, astounded to feel tears pouring down her cheeks. _That feeling just now…something terrible has happened!_

"…Palom!?" she whimpered. She pressed her fingers to her chest, but could only feel one fluttering pulse vibrating within – her own.

"We need to go," Kain walked up to her, extending his hand. "Do you need me to carry you again?"

"Back off!" Anja snapped. "Can't you see something is wrong?" Porom was staring ahead with lightless eyes, urging her body and mind to cooperate as it had while she was in Palom's room – but nothing came to her. It was like picking up dead air on a radio – the connection was severed.

 _I know I heard his voice..._ Porom blinked. _Palom, what happened to you?! My body…has it been reacting to something you were experiencing in Troia…?_

"Lady Porom!" Meghan begged, shaking Porom's shoulder gently. "Please, what's wrong!?"

"I…" Porom bit her lip, forcing herself to her feet. The agony had vanished, the dizziness lifted – it was as if she had cast a cloak of lead from her body, and now felt light enough to fly. "…Nothing. I feel fine. It won't happen again…"

She marched past Kain's outstretched hand, jaw clenched as she started to jog down the remainder of the mountain path, her breath escaping in choppy gasps.

 _Palom…I simply won't accept that you have left me – you're bluffing again, you bastard!_

* * *

The screams could be heard from the road that had been carved into the Mysidian prairieland even before they had reached the village gates. Porom broke into a cold sweat at the putrid stench of monsters rolling on the wind – it was so overwhelming that it nearly knocked her out. Directly above the Tower of Prayer, an electric-blue lightning bolt struck, and the sound of shattering glass echoed on the horizon.

The four of them broke into a run, Porom screaming as she stumbled through the mangled gates that normally stood tall and proud at the entrance of the village. The streets were teeming with monsters of all breeds – Nagas, Goblins, Ogres and Chimeras were dueling with black mages as white mages tended to the injured, many of which were bleeding out openly in the streets or already too far gone and were pulled into flower beds or doorsteps to peacefully pass.

"What!? No!" Porom cried. She turned to face Kain, who was staring at the bloodshed wordlessly, his mouth agape. "Kain!"

He shook his head slowly, not looking back at her. "We're too late…"

"We have to find the elder, quickly!" Porom reached for her mythril rod, gazing up toward the Tower of Prayer with its now-shattered crystal dome still raining down rubble from the lightning strike.

"I'll see how I can help out here," Kain offered. "I'll clear a path for you – just run as fast as you can!"

"Not going to argue with you," Anja grunted, grabbing Meghan's hand. "Don't fall behind!"

"I…" Meghan sniffled as she looked around. "I should have been here…maybe I could have…"

But Porom didn't stick around to hear her finish – she had bolted down the main drag, trailing after Kain, his crimson sash rippling from his helmet the only banner Porom could possibly keep her eyes on to not lose him as he would leap into the air, impale an unsuspecting monster, and land for only a few moments before winding up to do it again on the opposite side of the street. When they reached the Tower of Prayer, Porom bust inside with Anja and Meghan, and they heard Kain's lance smash into a Naga's skull as the heavy doors slammed shut, plunging them into silence.

The Elder's nurse was collapsed on the stairway ahead of them that led to the crystal chamber. Porom ran up to her, kneeling down and grabbing her wrist to check for a pulse.

"Are you OK?!" Porom blinked, and the nurse moaned, her eyes not opening as she slumped against Porom's arms.

"Mysidia...the Crystal...they must be saved…Monsters...hordes of them...from the Devil's Road. I fought to keep them out, but one got past me…"

Meghan and Anja gasped, turning toward each other. Porom looked down, her hand shaking as she cast Cura on the nurse.

"The seal's been broken!" Meghan frowned. "How else would they have gotten in here?"

"I-I don't know," Porom whimpered, standing up. "But she said a monster got past her – we have to find the Elder, before it's too late!"

They burst into the crystal chamber, where the Crystal of Water was still safely holding its post, shining with its usual brilliance as if the world wasn't burning down around it. That only left the tower spire itself – Porom dashed into her room to make sure the Elder had not taken quarter there, while Anja checked Palom's room and Meghan checked the remainder of the bedchambers. The three came together once more, and Porom led them up the stairs, the adrenaline pumping through her veins the only thing that was still keeping her standing.

"Elder?" Porom cried. "Elder!"

She burst through the doors to the prayer dais, another scream escaping her throat as she took in the carnage. The chamber floor was covered in shattered glass and crystal, strangely reminiscent of the shrine on Mount Ordeals, and groans of thunder echoed above as another lightning strike raced across the sky. The Elder was collapsed within a glowing yellow dome – he or someone else must had managed to cast a Protect spell as the ceiling collapsed. Fluttering above the Elder, screeching and trying to slice his claws through the barrier, was an enormous red eyeball with jade bat wings and a mouthful of grating teeth. When Porom and the others stumbled into the room, it immediately turned its blinking, watery eye upon her, and let out a whistling shriek that made her press her hands to her ears.

"Look out for that Blood Eye!" Anja cried, but before Porom could raise her staff, Kain crashed through from the ceiling above, his lance positioned between his folded hands as he plunged the blade into the beast, a fountain of blood and pus erupting like a volcano as he ran his lance through, pinning the Blood Eye to the floor. A sickening slurping noise rang out as Kain removed the lance, the Blood Eye bursting into dust as the Elder's barrier faded to nothingness.

Porom ran to the Elder's side, sliding down to her knees and gently turning him over. He gazed up at her with clouded, unfocused eyes, his voice rattling in his throat as he reached up to take her hand. "Porom...You've returned safely..."

"Elder…" Porom whimpered, squeezing his hand back tightly. "Are you OK?"

"The monsters...They appeared from the Devil's Road..."

Porom lowered her head. _Oh gods, then what the nurse spoke of was true!_ "Then Baron's already been overrun, and now they've come for us!"

"I fear...it is already too late..." the Elder shook his head, his hand going slack in hers as he fell back against the stone floor, wheezing for breath.

"No, it can't be..." Porom bit her lip. _Ceodore…did you make it out of Baron alive? What about your parents…?_

"Where is Kain?" the Elder whispered. Porom blinked, gesturing for Kain to kneel down next to her. He did so, using his lance for leverage as he peered over the fading old man.

"Right here," Porom said gently, taking the Elder's hand and placing it over Kain's knee. The Elder opened his eyes once more, and Kain leaned in closer to hear him.

"We stand below the twin moons once more...As we speak, your homeland of Baron has fallen into the hands of monsters...And next…Mysidia…"

"They're after the crystals..." Kain said bluntly, and the Elder nodded.

"Who could be sending them here?" Porom frowned. "They're probably the same people that struck down the Red Wings! And Baron doesn't have a crystal…so why!?"

"I cannot say..." the Elder sighed. Kain gently pushed his hand away, standing up and adjusting his helmet.

"I need to see Baron for myself."

Porom leapt up. "Elder, I too will go to Baron!" Kain turned to her, shaking his head.

"Don't."

"Kain!"

"Don't make me repeat myself." He spun on his heel and retreated to the entryway, starting to climb down the stairs of the tower. Porom rushed to him, ducking underneath his arm and blocking his path, panting for breath. "Where are you going?"

"Baron is _my_ homeland." He calmly gripped her forearm, yanking her behind him and shoving her back through the threshold before disappearing down the stairs. Porom grimaced, rubbing her smarting skin as Meghan and Anja approached, each saddling one of the Elder's arms over their shoulders.

"Porom…go after him," Anja looked down. "You're worried about Kain and Ceodore, right? You can handle the Devil's Road better than any of us – you don't need Meghan and I."

"But…" Porom glanced over at the Elder, who looked up at her with a weak smile.

"You don't need to worry about me, Porom. Just...just promise me you won't do anything rash."

Meghan patted the Elder's back. "Don't worry. I'll give the elder the best care there is."

"…All right," Porom nodded. "I'll figure out what's happening, and be back in a flash!" She raised her hand sadly, turning and fleeing down the stairs after Kain.

When she emerged from the Tower of Prayer, another clap of thunder rolled overhead, and Porom flinched in surprise, tugging the hood of her cloak up over her head in anticipation of fresh rain. First, she had to find Kain – he most likely didn't know how the Devil's Road functioned, so he wouldn't have gotten too far without her. But as she clamored down the steps to the main street, she was shocked to see a lone figure standing amongst the destruction and death the monsters had left in their wake before Kain annihilated them – it was a young woman, who looked to be her age, with flowing turquoise hair that poured down her ivory shoulders and wide, unblinking amber eyes that fell upon Porom as soon as she stepped out of the shadows of the tower. Porom noted with distaste how the woman's bare feet were stepping in puddles mixed with rain and blood as she stepped forward, her gossamer gown flouncing behind her carelessly.

"Who are you!?" Porom blinked, and the woman smirked.

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't comprehend it."

Porom felt her face flush, and she crossed her arms over her chest haughtily. It was time to call upon a little Palom-like attitude. "I've never seen you around here before, which can only mean one thing: You're the one who unsealed the Devil's Road, aren't you?"

Surprisingly, she merely nodded. "Yes, to retrieve the crystal."

Porom's jaw dropped at the girl's raw honesty. _"Retrieve?"_

"Yes."

"Hold it, you!"

Porom whirled around only to see the Elder storm past her, his black robes billowing menacingly as he tapped his staff to the ground with each determined step, his head raised to his full height as he stared the mysterious girl down with a glare that Porom thought he only reserved for her brother. "Elder...!"

The Elder stopped a few feet away from the girl, thrusting his staff toward her. "Those who lust for power must never lay hands on the crystal...Never again!"

She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her forehead as if she were already exasperated. "I don't need your permission." She closed her eyes, pressing her hands together as a soft gold light began to surround her. A storm of lightning bolts rained from the sky, and appearing before Porom and the Elder in a flash of light was none other than Ramuh himself, the bearded Eidolon Thunder God. Raising his ruby-topped staff, he started to twirl it in circles above him, drawing into it a maelstrom of crackling energy. The wind violently picked up, whipping Porom so fiercely that she had to shield her face with her arms to keep her eyes from watering.

"Ramuh!" she screamed over the howling winds. "Why are you doing this!? Where's Rydia!?"

"No…!" the Elder gasped, raising his staff and chanting under his breath. As the atmosphere surrounding Ramuh began to get darker and heavier with energy, Porom waded through the winds, her head lowered as she tried to make her way over to the Elder. She had decided to become his shield – there would be no way a magic barrier could even stop an Eidolon's magic – she would just have to pray that she could sustain the hit for both of them.

 _Palom…I know you can hear me…I need you to lend me your power…I can't protect the Elder by myself!_

But the Elder's eyes flashed as he turned to meet Porom, and it was only too late that she realized what he had done. A glittering white light bathed Porom's body, and she found that she could no longer move – it felt like her body was being ripped away from gravity's pull, no matter how firmly she dug her toes into the ground.

"Elder!" Porom cried, struggling to reach out with her hand, despite it now feeling like it weighed five-hundred pounds. "No…!"

The Teleport spell spirited her away in a burst of light, and Ramuh released his storm, a cascade of lightning crashing upon the Elder's form. Porom could only watch helplessly from the entrance of the village, where she had been transported just in time to see the Elder's smoking form collapse to the ground, Ramuh disappearing in a swirl of green crystals.

"How meaningless," the mysterious girl sighed. She stepped over the Elder's fallen body as if it were a mess a dog had left in the street, and began to make her way toward the Tower of Prayer.

"You...!" Porom shrieked, running up the street as fast as her legs could carry her and preparing to launch herself onto the girl's narrow shoulders from behind. She heard a whistle dart past her ear, and a familiar, achingly cool voice.

"Wait."

Both Porom and the girl turned to see Kain standing before them, one hand cocked on his hip and the other behind his back.

"Kain!" Porom cried out in relief. "Thank god, you've…"

"Is this what you're looking for?" Kain held up the hand behind his back, which contained the Crystal of Water – dull and lightless in his hands, but most definitely the one that was supposed to be in the crystal chamber of the Tower of Prayer.

The mysterious girl's eyes widened, and Porom watched disgustedly as a small smile formed on her lips. "This is it – the real thing."

Kain shrugged. "It's yours."

The girl burst into startled laughter, and Porom stumbled forward, feeling as if someone had sucker-punched her right in her gut. "Wait…Kain!?" He didn't even look at her as the girl giggled once more for good measure and shook her head.

"A wise choice." She began to approach Kain, but he lifted the crystal in the air away from her, shaking his head.

"On one condition, though."

The girl paused mid-step, her hands on her hips. "What?"

"I'll give it to you only after I finish what I set out to do."

"And what is that?"

"An audience with the king of Baron."

Porom watched their conversation, dumbstruck. _What the hell was going on? Was Kain trying to bait her, or…gods forbid it, this was all for real!?_

The mysterious girl smirked. So, the dragoon had figured out her hold over Baron, which was more than could be said about the other fools she had had to deal with so far. This one was clever…and there was something else about him that far surpassed the other insects, even the half-breed.

"For what purpose?"

Kain clenched the crystal so tightly that Porom feared he would grind it to dust before her very eyes. "To take his life... _I will_ _kill Cecil with my own hands_!"

Porom gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth. _No…he can't be serious! Why…?_

But the girl appeared to have no reason to believe any of this was a joke. She nodded thoughtfully, not even giving Porom a passing glance as she turned on her heel. "Understood. Bring the crystal with you." She opened a portal of swirling blue light and leapt inside, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

"Kain!" Porom cried, finally managing to find her voice. "Please…!" She made a grab for the crystal, but Kain was of course far too fast for her even when she wasn't in such a depleted state. He snatched her hand in his, sneering as his fingers clamped so tightly over hers that she could feel the blood cease to circulate to her digits.

"You're…hurting me…!" Porom moaned, lifting her eyes to his. "Please – it's not too late to stop this! Cecil…he loves you…! All this time, he's…"

"What would a _child_ like you know about love?" Kain hissed, and with one swift motion, yanked Porom's pinky back so viciously that she heard the snap before her body could register what had happened. The blood drained from her face as the shock of the agonizing pain began to wash over her. She fell effortlessly as Kain tossed her away, turning on his heel and leaping to the roof of the pub in one graceful leap before jumping again, and again, until he was out of sight.

Porom cringed as she held up her crippled hand, her finger now blossoming with dark purple and black-clotted bruises. She could feel the vomit rising in her throat and knew she would get ill right there in the street if she stared at it any longer, so she proceeded to drag herself to the Elder's side with her one good hand and her rubbery legs, hiccupping with the effort. Leaning over him, she bit her lip so hard that she could taste blood. "Elder..." He was splayed out on the ground face-down, his hair matted in burned clumps from Ramuh's spell and his body still, patches of pink, puckered skin visible through the burns in his robes.

Her chest heaved with sobs as she tried to process what had just occurred. Everything had happened so quickly, and she had been…well, powerless. Less than powerless – utterly worthless. It was true, after all…she really couldn't do anything without her brother...and he hadn't answered her plea. Holding her breath until she thought her heart might burst, there came no flutter of a second pulse, and warmth no longer emitted from the cold, tarnished ring twisted painfully around her rapidly swelling finger.

 _He's gone…Palom's…!_

Porom clasped her hands together, ignoring the painful throb of her shattered bones, trying to think of a spell that could fix this – _any_ of it – but she could feel her hysteria rapidly rising, drowning out any and all rational thought. Her brain had become a jumble of garbled spell incantations and radio static. She closed her eyes, collapsing over the Elder and finally allowing herself to give into despair as her tears showered his bloodied robes. She let erupt a scream that had been buried so deep inside of her, she hardly recognized the sound of her own terror.

 _"PALOM…!"_

Silently, the storm clouds in the skies above parted, and the second moon shed its light…

* * *

 _-End of Part One-_


	15. Act Fifteen: Yang's Tale

Act Fifteen: Yang's Tale | The Reluctant Master

 _Fabul, the night before the moon's return_

 _Tomorrow, I'm going to wake up early for sure – there's no way I'm going to let them leave me behind!_

The girl smiled in self-satisfaction at her reflection in the mirror, pulling her hairbrush through the shoulder-length explosion of curls one last time before setting it down on her acrylic dressing table with a loud click that reverberated throughout the otherwise silent chamber.

Crossing the plush violet carpets that kept the chill of the bamboo flooring off her feet at night, she paused at the bow windows that had been freshly polished earlier that morning, giving her a perfect view of the starlight-infused sky and the rising peaks of Mount Hobs far to the west.

 _I'll be sixteen soon,_ the girl thought, kneeling on the velvet-lined bench beneath the window and pressing her palms to the glass. _Practically a grown woman. And the glory of the Fabulian Monks runs thick in my blood, and the blood of my ancestors that can be traced as far back as the birth the nation itself. I could manifest all of that precious power for the good of our kingdom if I were only given the opportunity to hone it – it's my birthright, after all! What do I have to do to prove I'm worthy of my own bloodline?_

Just as she was about to retreat from the window and crawl into bed, a flare of white light suddenly tore across the horizon, a smoking tail languidly trailing behind as the light flew over Mount Hobs and sharply descended in the direction of Damcyan. Moments later, there was a discharge of radiance, rainbow auroras rising into the sky before slowly fading to nothingness. The girl breathed in sharply, her champagne-colored eyes as wide as the full moon itself.

 _Whoa…a shooting star! I've got to make a wish – this has gotta be a sign!_

She backed away from the window giddily, her honey-toned complexion flush with excitement as she practically leapt into bed. Leaning over to check the three alarm clocks she had set one last time, she reached up and tugged her lace canopy curtains closed before burrowing under her covers and clenching her eyes shut.

 _I wish to become the strongest woman in the world – oh, and to become Master Yang's next student!_

* * *

"Ursula…? Wake up dear, it's nearly noon."

"WHAT?!"

The girl shot up in bed, her hair drenched in sweat and sticking to the back of her neck. Her room was practically an oven, and she saw a shadow through the lace of her canopy bending down to open all of her windows. Tossing off her blankets, Ursula shoved the curtains aside and saw with dismay that she was now the proud owner of three _smashed_ alarm clocks, all in various states of destruction on the floor. Sliding the springs and screws away with her foot, she let out a defeated sigh that got the attention of her visitor.

Her mother, known to everyone else in the world as Queen Sheila, finished pushing open the last window and promptly sat down on the bench, raising an eyebrow as she observed the massacre that had taken place. The afternoon sun danced on the streaks of silver in her thick plume of purple hair, her sleek and straight locks opposite of Ursula's untamable ringlets. "Punched your clocks in your sleep again, eh? Trying to wake up early to chase your father to Mount Hobs?"

"Damnation!" Ursula howled, shaking her head as she buried her face in her hands. "The peddler promised me that these were indestructible!"

"Perhaps he meant under normal circumstances," Sheila said gently. "You know, accidentally knocking them down, or spilling a pitcher of water, or…"

"Enough," Ursula groaned. "I don't even remember doing it."

"You do get quite unnerved when your beauty sleep is disturbed," Sheila laughed, and Ursula turned to glare at her. But it only then that she noticed the package in her mother's hands, and saw the distinct scrawl of her name written upon it.

"Is that for me…? Ursula blinked. "Who's that from?"

"Ah, I was wondering when this would get your attention," Sheila patted the spot next to her on the bench, and Ursula walked over, plopping down and taking the package into her hands. It was wrapped in brown paper and looked as if it had gone on quite the journey – it was rain-stained, sun-faded and might have been trampled a few times by a chocobo. But the name on it was indeed Ursula Fang Leiden's, and the seal in the upper right corner was very familiar indeed – that of the Kingdom of Baron. And the only people she knew there were...

"It's not my birthday for a few weeks yet," Ursula murmured, tearing off the paper.

"Perhaps Cecil wanted to make sure it got here since he wasn't able to hand-deliver it," Sheila smiled gently. "I know he felt very bad about missing your big day this year."

"Well, the celebration for the 800th anniversary of your kingdom is probably more important," Ursula smiled back. "But…yeah, I still wish he was going to be here too. He's been here each year since the very day I was born, after all. It's going to be weird without him."

She tossed the paper aside, revealing a black box with a piece of parchment attached to the lid by a crimson wax seal. Tugging it off, she read aloud:

 _"Dear Ursula,_

 _Happiest of birthdays to the one and only Princess of Fabul, who grows more beautiful and noble with each passing day. May your sixteenth year be the best yet – we'll see you soon._

 _With Love,_

 _Uncle Cecil, Aunt Rosa, and Ceodore"_

Ursula pressed her lips together and tried to hold back her tears as she handed the note to Sheila and popped open the lid of the box. Her Godfather, King Cecil Harvey, whom to her had always just been Uncle Cecil, was one of the loves of her life behind her own parents. He had not only been present to witness her birth along with Queen Rosa, but had been the one to name her at her father's request. He had told her that he named her Ursula because she had reminded him of a cub in her bear of a father's arms when she first entered the world, and that he was sure she would be as fierce and strong as him when she came of age.

 _Uncle Cecil believed in me right from the start. Why can't my own father…?_

Ursula gasped in delight as she lifted a slim black headband from the box, adorned with a resplendent, ruby-red silk rose framed by four ivy-green leaves that were hand-stitched and bejeweled with tiny crystals that looked like the morning dew. Sheila reached over and gingerly stroked the luxurious fabric that made up each folded petal, letting out an approving murmur.

"Ursula…this is absolutely beautiful…!"

"I know!" Ursula cried, bringing the blossom to her nose and inhaling deeply. "It even smells like a rose! Someone must have put a lot of love into crafting this – it's better than the real thing. Only someone like Uncle Cecil would remember how much I loved to play in Baron's rose gardens as a kid, huh?"

"And it will go perfectly with your new dress for your birthday celebration – don't you think?"

"Let's see!"

Ursula leapt from her seat and threw open her wardrobe, pulling out a red silk _cheongsam_ dress that fell to her knees, slits cut in each side that reached her hips, and gold and emerald flowers and vines embroidered throughout that made her eyes glow with celestial light. As she draped the hanger the dress hung upon against her chest, Sheila slid the headband upon the crown of her scalp gently, stepping back a few feet and nodding.

"Yes – it's absolutely perfect," Sheila sniffled and shook her head. "My little princess, all grown-up…How can sixteen years have passed so quickly?"

"Mother!" Ursula blushed, shaking her head as she hung the dress back up in her wardrobe. "Come on – don't talk like that. I've been waiting _forever_ for this day to come. Once I reach the age of majority, Father has to let me start training, right? I'm tired of being a child – and being treated like one, too! Uncle Cecil named me Ursula because he knew in his heart I would be strong, right? So why won't Father let me live up to that destiny? Maybe Uncle Cecil will talk to him for me..."

Sheila looked away, her fingers fumbling as she folded the note from the Baronian royal family and slid it onto Ursula's dressing table. "Ursula…you shouldn't wish away your days, my dear. Every day on this planet is a gift – one that many lost their lives to ensure that we could still enjoy. I know you're anxious to grow up, but…well, everything happens for a reason, and in its own time, too. If I didn't believe that so fiercely, I might have never had you. And my life and your father's would be so much sadder for it – I hope you understand."

"Mother…" Ursula threw her arms around her, and for a moment, both women were startled at how tall Ursula had seemingly gotten overnight – she overtook her mother now. It was only by an inch, but Ursula flushed when she realized that she was looking down into Sheila's eyes – surely the last time they had embraced like this, it had been she who had been the one looking up at her mother?

Sheila let out a snort as she stroked Ursula's hair. Things were starting to get a bit too weepy for her taste – time to change the subject. "Besides…your Uncle Cecil has his own rebellious teenager to deal with – you think too highly of yourself if you think he would talk to Yang on your behalf."

"A rebellious teenager? Ha! Ceodore couldn't rebel himself out of a teacup," Ursula smirked. "You need _pride_ to be a rebel." She thought back to when she had last seen him at his fifteenth birthday, despondent and quiet as everyone else around him had a grand time. She had been the only kid his age there, and when she tried to teach him how to spar in the gardens as a gift (and because she was bored senseless), it had ended with the birthday boy gracing the castle infirmary.

 _Ceodore's got the whole world at his fingertips, yet he does nothing with it,_ Ursula mused. _He's so lucky…Uncle Cecil WANTS him to follow in his footsteps, yet here I am with my father refusing to even let me observe a training session. Fate is a twisted sister, that's for sure._

Sheila chose to ignore Ursula's comments, even though she knew her daughter hadn't meant to be unkind – she was just blunt, and Sheila unfortunately knew where _that_ trait came from on the family tree. "At any rate…now that you've foiled your own plan to try to get your father to take you to Mount Hobs for training this morning, will you settle for lunch with me instead? He won't be back until late tonight, so it's just us girls."

"Yeah, I suppose," Ursula smiled, though she was pouting on the inside. It wouldn't be for another couple of days that the next trip to Mount Hobs was scheduled – she would be ready then. If she had to, she would buy a million clocks and try to bribe one of her father's students to slam the bedroom door down, if need-be.

"Make yourself respectable and meet me downstairs," Sheila said, kissing Ursula's forehead before turning to leave. Ursula reached down to grip her satin pajama top, about to lift it over her head when she remembered what had distracted her before bed last night, and paused mid-way.

"Oh, Mother! Did you see the shooting star last night?"

Sheila blinked, shaking her head.

"No – but I heard the guards talking about it this morning. The high monks who went with your father to Mount Hobs today are going to investigate later. I hear they just want to make sure it didn't hit Damcyan when it landed. With that and that second moon appearing all of a sudden…better safe than sorry, I guess."

"What?" Ursula breathed, yanking off her top. "So it actually struck land?" _Is that what those rainbow colors were that I saw in the sky last night?_ "And what's this about a second moon?"

"You slept through quite a lot this morning," Sheila's smile faltered – just for a moment, but Ursula had caught it with her lightning-fast perception. "But don't worry dear – I'm sure everything is fine."

 _Mmmmm…_ Ursula pressed her lips together as her mother left the room, closing the door behind her. She shimmied out of her pajama pants and waltzed over to her wardrobe, throwing it back open. _I guess it hadn't occurred to me to be worried until now..._ Yanking down a dressing robe, she slid it over her shoulders and rushed to her open window, gazing outside. Sure enough, hanging low in the otherwise bright sky was not only the full moon from the night before, but a second, smaller moon had appeared right next to it, shining as brightly as the Crystal of Wind just a few floors below from where she stood. It looked like any other moon – and she had seen paintings of the night sky created before she was born that had two moons just like this – so it didn't seem like an entirely foreign concept to her.

 _More stuff I don't know or understand...how could something so beautiful be so fearsome?_

* * *

 _Two days later…_

"Yah!"

The monk launched himself into a running leap, the three trainees before him bracing themselves for a kick to the face by raising their arms to protect their faces. But instead of striking from above, he landed short and rolled into a somersault, sweeping his leg out against the ground instead and knocking the three trainees down like bowling pins. They slammed into each other as they went down, crying out and landing in a pile of sweaty, shiny limbs.

King Yang Fang Leiden rose from the kick in one fluid motion, knocking the dust off his hands and folding his fingers into a prayer position as he bowed deeply, elbows parallel to his hips. The trainees pulled themselves apart and scrambled to their feet, anxious to mimic him and properly end their sparring session. When everyone had met in a bow, Yang rose and stroked his mustache, a golden blonde fu manchu style whose tendrils brushed the tops of his collarbone.

"Passable enough, but you need to push yourselves harder – _all_ of you."

The three monks nodded, still not yet rising from their deference to their king and master. They were dressed identically in acolytes' clothing, which consisted of blue cotton training garb and shaved heads with indigo dots of paint smeared on their foreheads to represent the training principals they had mastered thus far. "We bow to your greatness, Master Yang! Even as king, your prowess has not changed one bit!"

Yang crossed his arms over his chest. Completely bald except for the whip of a ponytail that sprouted from the top of his scalp and trailed to his thighs, his hair swished hypnotically as he shook his head. "True strength lies within the heart, not in the body. Have the heart to trust in your companions, and strength will follow each one of you."

"Father!"

The three acolytes blinked in unison as the doors to the courtyard burst open. Princess Ursula appeared in a flurry of curls and perfume, the contrast between the way she was elegantly dressed and her roguish strides striking to all in observance. She had decided to pull out all the stops that morning to convince the world of her impending womanhood – she liberated the dress meant for her birthday celebration from her wardrobe, pairing it with a pair of slate gray training flats and the rose headband, pinned to her head like a queen's tiara. Her hair, which matched Yang's in color and texture, was gathered into voluminous pigtails that resembled hydrangea blossoms in the peak of summer. Green shadow was swept over her eyelids, with a dash of gloss she borrowed from Sheila slathered on her lips. A blood orange sash that had been meant to cinch around her waist was tied around her arm, which she figured would be more practical as a sweatband in a pinch.

Taken aback by the unexpected transformation, Yang cleared his throat and tried to contain his stutter. "Yes, Ursula?"

The monk trainees behind him nearly fell over in shock, their hearts practically bursting from their chests. When had Princess Ursula, the most notorious tomboy in all of Fabul, gotten so…ladylike?

Ursula clasped her hands together, sliding to her knees in the grass as she peered up at Yang. "Please, Father, I beg of you! Allow me to train with you! I'll be sixteen in mere days…it's time I joined the rank of acolyte, would you not agree?"

Yang turned away, shooting his trainees a quick warning with his glare to make sure they stayed out of this one – not that they would have normally dared intervene, but he didn't like the moony looks that had taken over each of their faces. "My answer is firm, my daughter."

Ursula's face fell, and she rose, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she observed the childish grass stains on her knees. Surely the conversation was not over as quickly as that!? " _But why not!?_ I may be princess of this kingdom, but even more than that, I am a proud citizen of Fabul! Is it so wrong for me to become a stronger in mind and body?"

Yang turned back to her, his brows knitted as he stepped forward, his height overpowering hers. Even with her copious volume of hair, she barely reached the top of his chest, which was as wide as a barge and draped in a crimson and ivory-embroidered shawl that hung past his red and yellow training garb, tucked into white calfskin boots that were streaked and stained with years of dirt, absorption of sweat, and yes, a little blood – both his and others'. It suddenly occurred to Ursula how ridiculous she looked next to him – he was dressed as a proper warrior, while she was tarted up to go to a ball. Yang held up one hand to silence her. "You have no need to be stronger."

"But…Father!" Ursula wailed. "Hear me out!"

"M-M-Master Yang!"

Ursula stomped her foot in a snit as the courtyard doors opened once more, and they were joined by the chancellor, an ancient man who had been serving Fabul in various capacities for as long as both Yang and Ursula could remember. Until Yang had been crowned king, the chancellor had served the man now known as Fabul's duke consort, and Yang had begged him not to retire when the duke abdicated the throne.

Even so, it was very rare for the chancellor to actually interact with Yang – he mostly kept to himself since Yang ruled their kingdom so wisely and was so beloved by all of their people. A man in strength of both military strategy and the empathetic nature needed to win the hearts of citizens, Yang made the lives of the kingdom staff who worked behind the scenes as simplistic as they could ever remember from previous rulers. Even the duke consort, who had been a well-respected ruler and a kind man up until his abdication, had to marvel at how naturally wearing the burdensome mantle of king had come to Yang.

"Urgent news, Your Highness!" the chancellor panted, and Ursula secretly wondered how someone who had to have been close to one-hundred years old could still run like that without collapsing into a pile of dust. She supposed it had to do with the training he had received as a youth to become a monk – something everyone in the kingdom seemed to have except her.

"What is it?" Yang asked, resting his palm on the chancellor's shoulder. The chancellor leaned in, and Ursula noticed he gave her a long stare before turning back to Yang in a hushed whisper. Luckily for her, his miraculously well-preserved health had not prevented him from becoming half-deaf, so he was being much louder when he spoke than he thought.

"Please, let us discuss it in the throne room…!" He glanced at Ursula and the group of trainees, a fake smile plastered to his face, and promptly departed the way he came. Ursula watched him go, licking the gloss off of her bottom lip and gagging at the taste. _Yuck!_ _Why do women wear this garbage again?_

Yang took hold of her shoulders, forcing her to face him. She nearly jumped as she was drowned in his shadow once more. "Ursula, listen to me. You are the crown princess of Fabul, and you should not forget your position." She flinched at his words of warning as he turned to glance at the acolytes. "And neither should any of you."

"Yes, Master!" they chanted dutifully, and bowed once more before departing in a single-file line. Yang released Ursula's shoulders, and she stumbled back as she watched him exit the courtyard, the jade and lacquer-embossed doors swinging shut ominously behind him.

 _You didn't even listen to me…_ Ursula reached up, angrily grinding away the tears that had started to sting her eyes. _If the rank of "Master" outclasses "Father", then there is no reason why I need to obey your ridiculous orders any longer!_

* * *

In the throne room, Yang made his entrance, not even aware of the audience before him as he sat on his throne. Standing at a respectful distance away were his two personal guards, former students named An and Bale who kept their post in the throne room unless they were otherwise summoned. They had also been joined by the chancellor and the duke consort. Standing beside the throne, Queen Sheila gazed down at him sadly, sensing by the telltale red tinges around his ears and his sharp, unsteady breathing that something else had happened besides the chancellor getting his knickers in a knot. She had a feeling that the "something" had to do with her hearing their daughter sneaking about this morning, finally successful in her plan to wake before Yang left for Mount Hobs that day.

Yang lowered his head in his hands, letting out a quiet groan.

"Ursula again?" Sheila half-whispered, and Yang sat up straighter, nodding.

"Yes. Ursula, _again_. I cannot help but wonder where that stubborn streak of hers came from."

Sheila tried to not let out a bark of laughter. "Um, that'd be _you_ hon. Without a doubt. I might be a little obstinate at times, but I've never held a candle to you!"

Yang glared up at her warily. "I know, I know. We don't have to go through this again..."

The chancellor cleared his throat nervously, approaching the throne. If he let them keep at it, things would quickly escalate to an argument that resulted in Yang running for his life while Sheila chased him with some sort of cleaning apparatus. Absolutely nothing had changed since the day they had gotten engaged; she had dropped her sweet as pie act as soon as the ring had been slipped onto her finger. "Pardon me, Master Yang?"

Yang blinked, suddenly remembering why he had come back to the throne room in the first place – he should have been preparing to depart for Mount Hobs with his students, after all. "Ah. My apologies. So then, you had something to tell me?"

The chancellor dithered about as he looked everywhere in the room except for Yang's narrowed brown eyes. "I am not sure how to put this, my liege, but…" he paused, finally shaking his head and willing himself to proceed. "…dark shadows seem to be looming over Baron."

Yang had to brace himself on his throne to keep from leaping to his feet. "You must be mistaken. Cecil would _never_ lead his nation awry. What is the cause of your suspicion?"

The chancellor sighed. "Some reports state that several crystals are now in Baron's possession."

Yang pressed his lips together. "What reports are these? That's preposterous!"

"Hon…" Sheila trailed off, but Yang raised his hand, and she shrugged.

The duke consort moved to stand next to the chancellor and bowed deeply. "Your Highness..."

""Yang" is good enough, my duke," Yang said softly, knowing that he wasn't going to like what came next.

The duke consort rose, his voice trembling. "There is no denying the praiseworthy acts you and Cecil performed to save our land. I remember how bravely you two fought together in this very room nearly seventeen years ago to defend our crystal from dark forces. However..."

Yang arched an eyebrow. "However?"

"…Baron's last ruler was a similarly renowned knight, and still his heart was blighted by evil in the end."

Yang rose from the throne, his voice booming. "I refuse to believe such a thing could happen! Not to Cecil, of all people!"

 _Cecil was the only one willing to warn Fabul when his own kingdom was poised to attack us – he betrayed his liege and his countrymen to dampen the damage Golbez could have wrecked upon us. He raised his blade against his own best friend to try to keep the crystal safe – his integrity and light know no bounds. And even to this day, I continue to be in his debt for the many times he has saved my life. To hear anything to the contrary – it's inconceivable!_

The duke consort stepped forward, shaking his head. "Please, Your Highness – I know this is hard to hear. But if that were not the case, how would one explain why Baron is suddenly gathering the crystals again?"

Yang crossed his arms over his chest. "Both Queen Rosa and Cid are in Baron and would stop such a travesty. You would dare sully their names as well? What you are proposing is simply too outrageous."

The duke consort clamped his mouth shut, taken aback by the ferocity of Yang's tone. Did he dare share the other troubling rumor that Queen Rosa and Cid were not only missing, but presumed dead along with Crown Prince Ceodore?

"Master!"

A third monk who had trained with An and Bale in less troublesome times burst in, his face red and his voice shaking. His name was Cole, and other than having a deeper tan than his compatriots from his post being stationed outside, he could have passed as their triplet in his matching garb and mannerisms.

"The princess has escaped! She wriggled out of the guardsmen's grasp!"

Yang clenched his jaw, rolling his eyes toward the heavens. "Not again..."

Sheila pressed her finger to her lips. Suddenly, it had become quite clear to her what had happened – Ursula had begged Yang to take her with him this morning, he had promptly blown her off (which everyone except Ursula had seemed to expect) and the disturbing news about Baron had provided the perfect distraction for her to make her break. "Off to Mount Hobs, no doubt."

The duke consort sighed. "Ursula's fascination with the martial arts has gone too far. Running off to Mount Hobs alone…what was she thinking?"

Yang glowered – hearing anyone utter such a remark about his own daughter made him want to die of shame. Yang was the opposite of a prideful man, but the moment a situation made him feel as if he had let his country down, it became a devastating event for him. It took every ounce of his self-control to not fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness from his own court. "Let me handle this. She is my daughter, after all."

An, Bale, Cole, the chancellor, the duke consort, and Sheila all turned to stare at him in disbelief.

"But something must be done about Baron, Your Highness," the chancellor muttered, and Yang slammed his fist into his palm so hard that it was like a thunderclap had erupted in the throne room.

"My trust in Cecil remains firm!"

An and Bale glanced at each other. They too, had witnessed Cecil's kindness nearly sixteen years ago when he and Queen Rosa had insisted on joining Yang back on his journey to Fabul to help Sheila through childbirth. They had been left for dead on Mount Hobs, attacked by a feral monster. Queen Rosa had brought them back from the brink of death, and Cecil had protected them and their master the remainder of the journey home. Quite honestly, it was hard for them to believe any of this madness as well – it sounded like something out of a middling gossip rag.

"Let us come along with you, Master!" An insisted, and Yang merely nodded, gesturing for them to follow him.

"Well then, time to depart!"

"Yes, sir!" An and Bale chanted, and Yang turned to Sheila.

"Watch things while I'm gone, would you? If…" he looked down. "If anything strange happens…"

"Don't worry, I've got this," Sheila said, reaching for his hand. "I'm with _you_ , remember? There's no way someone our daughter loves like her own family would ever do something so craven as to repeat past tragedies. Obviously, some lines are being crossed somewhere. I'll see if I can sniff out more about these alleged reports while you are gone."

"Thanks, Sheila," Yang said, turning away.

"Be back before dinner, okay?" Sheila smiled. It was something she always said in departure, but rarely did Yang ever actually heed to it.

"Your H-Highness…" The chancellor scuttled after Yang and the two monks as they approached the throne room's exit. "I can only hope that I am overthinking this matter…"

"And I as well," Yang said coolly.

* * *

Mount Hobs was not a long journey from Fabul, but it been with rising ire that Yang had noticed that the number of monsters they were encountering on the road had been growing considerably since the return of the twin moon days before. It was nothing he or even his students could not handle, but just the sheer numbers increasing the way they had – there was no rational explanation for any of it, not after seventeen years of relative peace.

Setting aside the troubling rumors about Baron that had been unceremoniously dumped upon him back in Fabul, Yang's attentions came back to Ursula, and how he should have realized something like this was going to happen after witnessing such insolence from her earlier. Even for her, that had been rather extreme – never before had she been so bold as to pick a fight with him in front of his students.

 _Ursula knows not of what the world was like before she was born and how the monster populations kept human activity in limitation. Fabul never had the luxury of not having every man, woman and child trained to defend themselves until now. She hasn't any experience or perspective, and now she's walking right into a repeat of those dark days with her eyes closed...the little fool! A princess belongs with her people, not gallivanting into danger!_

Upon reaching the east crossing of Mount Hobs, Yang cupped his hands around his mouth, calling out for Ursula with as much tempered rage as he could manage. An and Bale followed suit, but the only response they were met with were the growls of monsters not-so-subtly hiding in the shadows of the sloping peaks above and the roaring of the desert wind that carried east from Damcyan. After a few moments, the three of them gave up, their throats strained with effort as they proceeded to move forward toward the next station of the mountain – the summit that housed the sacred training grounds for the Fabulian monks.

 _I don't see a sign of Ursula anywhere. Has she grown strong enough to make it this far on her own? Or has something worse happened instead?_

"Master…" Bale began, and Yang nodded, indicating he could speak, as they kept hiking up the rock-strewn slope, his eyes glued to the summit. "Perhaps Princess Ursula is being assisted by the monks who departed a few days ago to investigate the meteor. She would have most likely run into them by now if they were keeping camp on the mountain."

"Perhaps," Yang frowned. "A comforting thought – although I don't know if she's clever enough to think like that."

"She was clever enough to give the guards the slip in the first place," An muttered, and Yang clenched his fists. _That was less comforting._

As they approached the summit, the frantic shuffling of feet and the sight of rocks and dust flying into the air was a dead giveaway that some sort of skirmish was taking place – despite repeated exterminations by Yang and his monks, Bomb monsters continued to build their nests on the mountain's summit, where they tended to often catch fire and make other monsters flee in a panic. In anticipation, Yang reached into his sash, pulling out an ice-imbued claw and strapping it to his knuckles.

But much to his horror, he instead heard the familiar cry of a young girl, and the sound of a fist splitting into flesh. Racing up the remainder of the slope, Yang saw Ursula pull her hand back from where it had been freshly implanted into a Goblin's face. The Goblin fell over in a dead faint, joining six of his brethren that were already starting to dissolve into dust and drift away on the wind.

"Ursula!" Yang cried.

"Princess!" An and Bale gasped, their jaws on the ground. She whirled around to face them, grinning as she rested her hands on her hips. Other than a small cut above her eyebrow, she appeared unscathed and flushed with excitement.

"More than what you thought I was capable of, eh?" Ursula smirked. "See – I am worthy of training with you! I can take care of myself – no bodyguards needed."

A pair of flashing yellow eyes floated above Ursula, who was too busy preening for her stunned audience to notice. An and Bale paled at the sight of the new arrival – it looked like the Bombs had indeed decided to build a new nest, and the mommy was not very happy about Ursula's trespassing.

"Ursula!" Yang barked. "Behind you!"

Ursula whirled around, a throaty laugh escaping her throat. It was just a Bomb – and she had already dispatched several of them on her way up the mountain. Sure, this one was a little bigger, but…that just meant more target for her to punch.

"Stay out of this, Father!" Ursula exclaimed, bending lower in her knees and digging her heels into the ground. Yang shook his head in dismay.

"This won't be as easy as before, Ursula! Its fear of your presence will only make it more dangerous!"

Ursula didn't reply as she grunted and swung her fist forward. This Bomb, much faster than the younglings Ursula had encountered earlier, bobbed out of the way and let out a warning snort of flames and smoke. As Ursula pivoted on her heel to strike once more, the Bomb flew between her legs under her dress and rose behind her, effortlessly body slamming her into the ground.

"Ahhh!" Ursula cried, sliding across the rocks and cringing as she lifted her bloodied hands and face from the ground, spitting out gravel. "This one plays dirty!"

Before the Bomb could strike her again, Yang dispatched it in one furious kick, sending it barreling into the ground and watching as it exploded upon impact, the monster leaving behind a black crater as smoke danced into the air. Ursula finally managed to turn herself around, wailing in protest when she saw what Yang had done.

"Father! She was mine!"

"You foolish girl!" Yang hissed. "That hole in the ground would have been you had the Bomb hit you one last time! Don't you know they self-destruct as a defense mechanism?"

"The others didn't…" Ursula pouted, and Yang threw his hands into the air.

"The others were mere children. This was the mother of all bombs – literally the Mom Bomb. Most distinguishable by the patterns around her eyes and the increased number of teeth to defend their young. Something a monk would know who had studied this mountain and its inhabitants for many years in order to be best prepared for anything – not a flighty princess who can't be bothered to listen."

"Father!?" Ursula cried. "What's the big deal!?" She pulled herself up from the ground, grimacing as she limped forward. A gash on her knee had burst open, and blood was trailing down her leg.

Yang crossed his arms over his chest. "Not only did you disobey my express instructions...you blundered deep into the wilderness by yourself! What were you thinking?"

Ursula gazed down, choking on the lump that had formed in her throat. When he put it that way…it did sound kind of foolish.

Yang stepped forward, closing the gap between them. "You had to have _some_ reason. Other than a matter of convenience, of course – taking advantage of a crisis striking our land in order to fulfill one's base desires is not how a monk would think, by the way. _Nor_ a princess. It's more suitable for a knave or coward."

Ursula reddened. Every damn word was true, and sunk into her stomach like stone pile. Plunk. Plunk. Plunk. "C-Crisis?"

"A rumor not worth repeating, but distressing enough for my heart on top of receiving the news that my daughter explicitly broke my trust. So, I will ask you one more time – what was worth all of this drama?"

Ursula looked away, mumbling under her breath. She didn't think anything else he said could possibly make her feel worse, so it was time to give up the ghost. "The shooting star."

"The what?"

Ursula took a deep breath, daring herself to look into her father's eyes. She had never seen them so full of rage – she thought she would burst into flames right then and there, no Bomb necessary. "I saw a shooting star fall near Mount Hobs several days ago, and after hearing that the royal guard was investigating, I wanted to see it for myself."

Yang tilted his head. "And you kept this from me? Why?"

Ursula laughed bitterly. "If I told you, would you have taken me with you to investigate? You would have just told me to mind my own business and be more ladylike, or some other nonsense!"

Yang stroked his chin, and sighed. "...You are right about that, at least. Now, back to the castle. Go on."

Ursula blinked. "WAIT! Are you going to go check it out now for yourself?! Please let me go along! I _promise_ I won't do anything rash!"

"No."

"So you are asking your daughter to venture back through the wilderness all by herself?" She shrugged and kicked at a rock, tilting her chin toward her chest. "Seems like I got lucky making it here in one piece, but maybe fate will be on my side one more time?" She eyed the cut on her knee, letting out a heavy sigh. "Don't even know if I can run if something comes after me…"

Yang groaned, smacking his hand to his forehead. An and Bale tittered quietly. Their master had yet to understand that Ursula was really much cleverer than he thought – as was par for the course for all the women in his life.

"We will gladly protect the princess for you, Master Yang," An offered.

 _I can't leave her behind in good conscious_ , Yang thought. _I suppose this would let me observe her as well – she can't cause any more trouble if she's right here with me. Besides, I would hate for her to accidentally hear the rumors about Baron – she would fly into a rage and probably give the chancellor a heart attack._ "All right, you win. Whatever you do, just keep yourself out of danger. If you give An and Bale any trouble, I promise you it will be the last time you leave the castle until I am in the ground."

Ursula nodded, folding her hands together. Yang's threat didn't even phase her, she was so pleased to actually be invited along – even if she had used a little strong-arming. "Absolutely."

The party crossed the remainder of Mount Hobs in relative silence. Yang dispatched the monsters that got in their way, and Ursula resisted the urge to join the fray – it killed her to have to stand back and passively watch, but she knew An and Bale would rat her out if she even looked at a monster sideways. Her father's stony silence was not unusual, but she had observed an umbrella of sadness that had seemed to be hanging over his head even while he was letting Ursula have it on the summit.

 _I wonder what the rumors were that the chancellor brought to Father. Something to do with the new moon or the shooting star…? Why would either of those upset him so dearly?_

An arid prairieland that was often the site of several fires when the summers became especially hot and dry were considered the boundary lines between Fabul and the nation of Damcyan, ruled by gentle King Edward. As neighboring kingdoms, Ursula had crossed the borders many times – of course, always with an escort – and thoroughly enjoyed her time in Damcyan when she had the privilege to visit as an envoy of Fabul. Despite being completely surrounded by a harsh, lifeless desert, Damcyan Castle itself was a center of art and sensory experiences far beyond the Spartan ways of Fabul. The two kingdom's rulers could not be more opposite as well – Edward was mild, fragile and an unabashed dreamer, while Yang was courageous, mentally and physically as strong as a colossus and pragmatic – but both men considered their contradictions to be great strengths to one another. They had fought together in the war seventeen years prior – brought together by Cecil – and had been good friends ever since.

Ursula and the rest of the party was relieved to see that the landing site of the meteor had indeed not crossed into Damcyan's immediate domain – that would mean that causalities were extremely low or at best, nonexistent. But what was troubling was that the closer they got to the crater that had been torn asunder into the fields, resulting in a crooked, circular barrier of overturned land that had risen up like a miniature mountain; the more putrid the air began to feel, burning their lungs as they inhaled and scratching their throats as they exhaled. The land itself had begun to deteriorate as well – deep cracks splintered out like spider webs, some large enough that a man could fall through if not stepping with caution, and plants and trees had entered into a state of putrefaction despite not actually having been struck by the meteor or otherwise disturbed. If the rot had reached Mount Hobs in what had been only a matter of days, what might happen by week's end?

When they reached the crater walls, Yang spotted a path that had been borne into one of the more forgiving slopes – it appeared that was where the monks who had previously visited the meteor had made their way inside.

"I wonder if our comrades are in there right now?" Bale asked. "The impact site is much bigger than expected – I reckon it would take days to fully explore."

"Only one way to find out," Yang said, and began to climb. "Ursula, behind me."

"Yes, Father."

After cresting the top of the crater, Yang leaned forward, sliding down effortlessly to the ledge below. Ursula, An and Bale followed suit, and when everyone had finally reached the bottom, they were overwhelmed by the sudden change in atmosphere – the air had become yet even more acrid, leaving a brackish, metallic taste on their tongues like they had been sucking on gil. Tendrils of purple smoke and gas were rising from the decimated earth – not a single blade of grass had remained. The crater seemed to stretch on forever – from where they were standing, the fog of whatever it was that was leaking from the earth had risen enough to create a low-hanging cloud that blighted their ability to make sense of their surroundings. Any sunlight that attempted to breech the crater from the outside world was thwarted by the hazy, swirling smoke and dust, plunging them into perpetual dusk.

Yang shook his head in awe. "What is the meaning of this?"

Ursula bit her lip. She had never seen anything so terrible and sad in her life – not even in her worst nightmares. The shooting star had been so beautiful in the sky – what had happened? "It's as if the land itself has _rotted_!"

Yang closed his eyes, and for a moment, An, Bale and Ursula could only stare at him wordlessly, unsure of what to do with themselves. Yang had fallen into one of his "infamous" meditative states that none of them dared to interrupt – it took intense concentration for even a monk of Yang's power to meditate in a horror show like this. Ursula shifted her weight nervously, wincing slightly as the cut Bale had bandaged for her on her knee rubbed against the wrappings. After a few moments, Yang's eyes snapped open, and he looked straight at Ursula, as if their conversation hadn't been interrupted.

"If only that were all we had to worry about...I feel an intense power nearby..."

Ursula swallowed. "Er…This is not just any normal shooting star, is it?"

"No. Brace yourself for anything. Mount Hobs could be a mere playground compared to this place."

The crater itself was a jagged mess of cliffs thanks to the earth's tectonic plates being thrown into disarray from the meteor's impact. The sound of rushing water could be heard as they descended deeper, but everyone took caution from actually stepping into any puddles that randomly streaked the cracked, thirsty floor – the earth itself appeared to resist absorbing it, and it was stained the same eerie blue as someone's complexion while they were suffocating – perhaps offering a glimpse into one's fate if they were to come into contact with it.

Ursula shivered and let the monks take hold of her arms as they crawled ever-downward, too stunned at their surroundings to shrug them off like she would have any other time. Ahead of them, Yang played the role of scout, sometimes disappearing for minutes at a time through the opaque fog. Just when his three followers would start to worry, he would emerge once more, pointing out which direction they should proceed next.

It was only when they reached ground zero that they came across something new – a pile of stones piled up in a purposeful way, wide and tall enough to indicate that someone had been meticulous in how they were placed. A silver breastplate had been left on top with crude lettering carved into it, and as Yang knelt down to read it, he felt his heart catch in his throat.

"What is it?" Ursula blinked, tilting her head. Yang lowered his eyes, his fingers shaking as he took the breastplate in his hand and read aloud:

 _"Here lies a brave group of monks from the glorious land of Fabul."_

"Oh, no..." Bale blanched, and An looked away.

Ursula shook her head frantically. "Wait…These must be the high monks who left to investigate…but…how can this possibly be? _Who_ did this?! Did the person who killed them also bury them…?"

"Rest in peace..." Yang whispered, setting down the breastplate and bowing his head in prayer. Ursula grimaced and cut herself off, realizing too late she was being inappropriate. She quickly bowed her head as well, mimicking Yang by reciting her own prayers, An and Bale following suit.

"Rest in peace…!"

Suddenly, a glimmer of light sparkled above, and Yang and the others raised their heads. Floating above them in the haze were the petite figures of three fairies, each identical with silky hair that reached their toes and fluttering wings that were reminiscent of a dragonfly's. Their features washed out by the swirling mist, their skin held the sheen of a polished opal, their eyes unblinking granite.

"Yang! Stay on your guard!" the middle fairy cried, and Yang reached up desperately, his hand immediately swiping through the fairy's transparent body.

"You...!" Yang gasped. "Dear Sylphs, why have you come to this horrid place?"

The sylph on the right shook her head. "They've come for us!" In a flash of light, she disappeared.

"And they will come for the crystals next!" the sylph on the left whispered, fading away as well.

"Wait!" Yang pleaded. "Of what do you speak? Who has come after you?"

The last remaining sylph gazed upon Yang sadly, her lips parting to speak but words failing her. She faded, and the glimmer of light that had burst above the grave disappeared, plunging them into darkness once more.

Yang stared down at the ground. "What is happening to this world of ours…?"

"What was that?" Ursula whimpered. "Did you know them Father? They seemed…afraid."

"Those were Sylphs, Eidolons who live in isolation in the Underworld," Yang said softly. "The shiest, gentlest and kindest creatures on this planet. They brought me back from the brink of death – long, long ago. For them to appear here, and now…" He shook his head, rising to his feet. "We've seen all we need here. We must return to Fabul at once. I fear for its safety."

Ursula nodded. "Yes, Father!"

As they turned to leave, Ursula glanced back one last time at the makeshift grave, rage starting to wrap its tendrils around her heart as she thought about how those poor monks must have suffered to perish in a hellscape like this. She eyed the breastplate, pressing her lips together.

It was not something the monks would have owned – it was a style of armor not commonly found in Fabul. That meant that either the killer or the person who had found the bodies had been a foreigner – with a generic plate like that, they could have hailed from anywhere.

 _Who else has been to this meteor – and what purpose did they have killing innocent monks!?_

* * *

Back on Mount Hobs, Yang couldn't help but dissect the sylphs' cryptic warnings over and over again in his mind.

The fairies that appeared before him were not real – that much he at least understood. They had been some sort of astral projections – he had heard of such phenomenon before, and had once even unknowingly participated in it himself. When Cecil and the others had been on the moon, fighting for their lives against Zemus, Yang's prayers had apparently projected a hologram of his soul by their side – he didn't realize it had been transpiring until after the fact, when Cecil had told him what happened.

As Eidolons, sylphs had the power to manifest themselves across planes in a moment's notice – particularly when called by a summoner, like Rydia. It was for that reason that Yang had to conclude they were already in danger – they simply could have teleported themselves to his side if they were otherwise able to do so.

But that meant someone – or something – had purposely hunted the sylphs – what was their connection with the crystals? Yang's stomach churned as he thought back to the chancellor's warning before they had all become distracted by Ursula's nonsense.

 _There's no way Baron could be behind an assault on the sylphs_ _and_ _confiscating the crystals...!_

He realized that he no longer heard footsteps shuffling behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see Ursula staring up at the sky, her eyes wide with fright. An and Bale were paused beside her, and a shadow drifted over them, the menacing sound of blades cutting through the air getting louder and louder.

"What is it?" Yang squinted, turning in the direction the shadow was passing.

"L-Look at that…" Ursula whispered, her voice lost in the roar of grinding machinery.

"An airship!" Yang gasped. "No…five of them! The Red Wings! Heading for Fabul!?"

"Why would Uncle Cecil's air force be coming to Fabul?" Ursula asked. "When he visits, Cid usually takes him on the Enterprise, right? These ships are much scarier – they're painted the color of blood…!"

"We must hurry!" Yang gasped. "We have to beat them there, no matter what!"

Ursula blinked. "Sure, but…can someone explain to me what is going on?" Yang had already taken off running, the bridge beneath his feet thrashing so fiercely that it seemed seconds away from snapping.

Bale rested his hand on Ursula's shoulder. "Princess, if I may, Master Yang has oftentimes advised us that if we can talk while we run, it means we are not pushing our bodies to their limit. Therefore, it may be best to return to Fabul first, and ask questions later."

* * *

Yang, Ursula, An and Bale burst into the throne room, where the chancellor was nodding off in a chair normally reserved for visitors, and Sheila and the duke were discussing something in the corner. All three parties leapt when the throne room doors slammed open, the chancellor falling out of his chair in a fluster.

"Your Highness! You have returned!"

Yang threw his hand out to silence him. "The Red Wings are flying this way _as we speak_!"

The duke shook his head. "So the rumors about Baron were true all along…What shall we do, Yang? They are surely after our crystal." Yang looked down, his face flushed with shame. He had been so insistent before that the reports were malarkey…yet the duke was mentioning none of that now. It was a minor testament to his skill and wisdom as the nation's previous ruler…

"What?!" Ursula shrieked. "What rumors? Why would Baron want the Crystal of Wind?!"

"We don't know, princess," the duke began, but Ursula marched up to Yang, her hands on her hips.

"Father, do not look away! The Wind Crystal symbolizes everything Fabul stands for! Handing it over to Baron – or anyone else, for that matter – is the same as abandoning this kingdom's honor! There should be no question on what we need to do, yes?"

The duke frowned. "But Ursula, it we were to fall into a prolonged battle, I fear there would be untold bloodshed." Ursula whirled around to face him, her bravado faltering as she paled.

"But still...!"

Yang sighed, finally finding his voice once again. Deep down, something still didn't feel right – perhaps those _were_ Baron's ships, but he knew in his heart Cecil was not the one controlling them. "Something has happened to Cecil. Of that much I am certain. Until we know the truth behind it, the crystal must not be surrendered."

"You wish us to fight back, then?" the duke asked. Yang shook his head.

"No. I shall greet them at the gates and gauge matters accordingly."

"I'm going with you!" Ursula exclaimed.

"You will _not_."

"Why not!?"

Yang pulled Ursula close, pressing his lips to her hair. "If disaster befalls me, the kingdom will be yours to protect. Your mother needs you...and so do our people. Please – even if you never listen to me again in your life – at least do so now."

"Father...!" Ursula gasped, pulling away. "What are you saying…?" Sheila approached, placing her hands upon Ursula's shoulders from behind and biting her lip.

Yang turned to the duke, chancellor, and his guards. "Gather all the monks! We must ready our defenses at once! An, Bale – fetch Cole and meet me up front, understood?"

"Yes, Master!"

As Yang sprinted out of the room, he called back to the duke and chancellor. "Evacuate yourselves and protect Sheila and Ursula with your lives…!" The doors crashed shut behind them before he could hear their affirmation of his orders.

"Master!" the monks all called in greeting as they rushed to their defensive positons – An and Bale must have made quick work of spreading word of their visitors. Yang deftly slipped through the throngs of monks, clenching his teeth and tightened the straps on his claws one more time for good measure.

 _I just hope I don't have to use these…_

At the castle gates, An and Bale were waiting patiently side-by-side, and Cole leapt down from the walkway above, landing with a flourish and nodding to Yang as he crossed the threshold. "Here they come!"

Yang nodded. "Hold your attack. We will observe their next move." The three monks nodded, and Yang turned to face the riverwalk that would take the Baronian soldiers to their doorstep, his heart and stomach twisted in knots. He could swear he had been transported back in time to seventeen years ago, when he had waited in this very position with Cecil and Edward by his side – when all three of them had been merely men fighting for their lives in defense of the crystal, and not monarchs.

Three Baronian soldiers were the first to appear, dressed in the kingdom's usual crimson attire that foot soldiers donned. Yang bowed deeply, but the soldiers did not reciprocate – they were staring straight through him as if he were a ghost.

"Welcome to Fabul," Yang said kindly, with nary a hint of malice or suspicion. "How is King Cecil?"

The soldiers responded by withdrawing their blades and pointing them at An, Bale and Cole's throats. The three monks didn't so much as blink, silently waiting for Yang's amended orders, if there were to be any.

 _This is madness…!_ Yang thought, taking a slight step backwards. _I have no choice…_

Yang reached out, snatching the two outlying soldiers' heads with such speed that they didn't have time to swing their weapons, and smashed them against the soldier's head who stood between them. All three slumped to the ground, their weapons falling from their hands. Yang quickly kicked them into the river, and An, Bale and Cole let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

"Master! Incoming cannon fire! It's coming from the Red Wings!" A cry came from one of the battalions that would have been stationed to defend the west tower, and sure enough, moments later the ground was shaking beneath their feet as the sound of lead crashing into stone rose into the air, sulfur burning Yang's nostrils.

"Master Yang! Our defenses out here will not hold an aerial assault!" Cole cried, and Yang nodded.

"You speak truthfully. Retreat into the castle!"

As they backtracked into the keep, An and Bale raced to secure the doors, and Yang crossed his arms over his chest. _So, it begins anew…just like before..._

"Monsters incoming from above!"

Yang looked up in shock as a flock of gargoyles descended upon them, Cole latching onto one and slamming it into the floor in a backflip as An and Bale struggled to press themselves against the castle gates, which were now pulsating and threatening to burst open from an unseen force slamming into it from outside. Yang leapt into the air, kicking two gargoyles in the face with a split kick and slamming his fist into the jaw of another that tried to sneak up on him from behind. The castle gates exploded, sending An and Bale flying forward as the doors fell off the hinges and a rush of Baronian soldiers marched in, their palms glowing with Fire magic.

"Ugh! Fall back!" Yang commanded, and he, An, Bale and Cole fled into the antechamber.

"Our backs will soon be against the throne room!" An cried.

"Fear not! Sheila has been safely evacuated!" Yang assured him.

Another wave of soldiers followed them, the numbers soon becoming too overwhelming for even the four powerful monks to keep up with. Yang eyed the doors to the throne room warily. They would have much more space to fight in there which would open them up to some new strategies they had not yet been able to employ.

"Master Yang!" Bale protested, shoving another Baronian soldier off of him.

"Haaah!" Yang growled, shaking his head. He had to make a call before it was too late. "To the throne room!"

But when Yang entered, he was shocked to see Ursula and Sheila still within. Ursula was poised in a starting stance, two gleaming metal knuckles shining from her fists as she bounced from foot to foot. Sheila was clenching her second-best frying pan (her first-best and hands-down favorite having been lost in the first war), her eyes wild.

"You!" Yang gasped. "Why are you still here!?"

"To fight alongside you!" Ursula exclaimed. "Sorry, Father – I never actually promised I would listen that last time…"

The castle rumbled violently, sending a cavalcade of beautiful vases filled with fresh flowers crashing to the floor, the crystal chandelier hanging high above swinging dangerously and casting misshapen shadows over the throne as it soared back and forth through the air on its chain.

"To the crystal chamber now! Both of you!" Yang barked, and Sheila lowered her frying pan.

"What about you!?"

"I will stay here…"

Another company of soldiers pushed through, and An, Bale and Cole proceeded to fight them off as Yang gestured toward his men hopelessly.

"Sheila, they _must_ be stopped! I'm needed here!"

"Father!" Ursula screamed. "Please, just let me help!"

"Go!" Yang growled, shoving Sheila toward Ursula. She snatched Ursula's hand, dragging her kicking and screaming to the crystal room.

"Mother…please…!" Ursula's protests faded as Yang heard the door to the crystal chamber slam shut.

The soldiers defeated, Yang turned toward his men and offered a small smile. "Good work. I think if we can stand our ground here while the monks outside slow the others down, we'll make it through…"

"Um…Master Yang!" Cole blanched. "Behind you…!"

A new voice joined the fray, its owner slipping through the throne room doors so stealthily that no one had seen him until he announced his arrival. He tilted his head, one hand on his hip and the other gripping a slender lance as his eyes drank in the room, finally resting on the King of Fabul.

"Sorry I've been scarce as of late." His tongue briefly ran over his lips, and retreated back into his mouth with a grin.

Yang spun around, claws extended, but dropped his fists to his side when he saw who it was. The voice had been so familiar, but he had never expected _him_ , of all people, to materialize…for the second time today, he wondered if he had fallen into a time warp…

"You…!"

* * *

In the crystal chamber, Ursula and Sheila were standing in front of the Crystal of Wind, staring at the only entry and exit to their hiding place vigilantly, which was tightly sealed shut and locked from the inside. Only two people in the entire kingdom held the keys – Sheila was one of them, and the other was Yang.

"It's gone silent out there…" Ursula frowned. "Did they win?"

The door suddenly started to creak open, and Sheila clapped her hands together.

"Honey!"

Ursula felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck, like someone had dropped an ice cube down her dress. She instinctively stepped in front of Sheila, clenching her jaw as a figure appeared before them that was NOT her father. It was a statuesque man with midnight-blue dragon scale armor that blended into black at his hips and chest, waist-length, silky blonde hair trailing down his back in a ponytail, and purple-stained lips pressed together in a thin line set against the backdrop of an elegant jaw that could cut glass. The rest of his face was obscured by his helmet, save for his slightly upturned nose. He was so achingly beautiful that the air had rushed out of Ursula's lungs when she laid eyes on him. His long, slender fingers were curled around the handle of a lance, his nails polished violet and subtly filed to points – like a dragon's claws.

"Kain!" Sheila exclaimed, and Ursula snapped out of her trance, looking at Sheila confusedly.

"What...? Mother, do you _know_ him?"

Sheila ignored Ursula's outburst, stepping forward. "Are you here to lend us a hand, then?"

The man Sheila had called "Kain" nodded, a small smile twisting in the corner of his mouth. When his voice echoed in the chamber once again, Ursula felt as if someone were holding her head underwater. "Indeed. I am here to help..." He suddenly thrust his lance forward, only a centimeter away from slitting Sheila's throat open all over the crystalline tiles below.

"Help myself to the Crystal of Wind, that is!"


	16. Act Sixteen: Ursula's Tale

Act Sixteen: Ursula's Tale | The Disciple

Sheila stared at Kain, unblinking as the tip of his lance hovered above her throat. Ursula could feel the blood draining from her face as her eyes danced back and forth between Kain and Sheila, both figures unyielding in their defiance. The chamber had gone silent – Ursula's heartbeat was roaring in her ears, urging for her to do something – anything – before everything she knew and loved was snatched away by this madman.

"Mother, get back!" Ursula hissed, kicking her foot high into the air and smashing it into Kain's throat. With a garbled wail, he stumbled backwards, and Sheila took the opportunity to flee behind the crystal dais, gasping for breath as Ursula stomped forward, her eyes alit with unbridled rage. Before Kain could right himself, she swung her fists, striking him once in the abdomen and following up with an uppercut that sent him sprawling on the floor. Hovering over him, Ursula planted her foot into Kain's chest, reveling in the labored wheezing escaping from his rapidly-bruising throat.

"What did you do to my father?!" Ursula demanded. "I know you stole the crystal chamber key from him!"

"Ha…your father?" Kain shook his head slowly. "Oh, this is even more delicious than I anticipated."

"What…?" Ursula blinked, but her confusion gave Kain the split-second he needed to turn the tables. He grabbed Ursula by the ankles, sinking his nails into her flesh as he pulled her legs out from beneath her, slamming her into the floor. Ursula screamed as her head hit the hard crystal, closing her eyes as stars exploded into her vision. She felt heavy armor and latex fall upon her, knocking the wind out of her lungs as she opened her eyes and found Kain on top of her, kneeling over her hips with his legs clamping her arms to the ground, his lance raised above her head. Ursula's eyes searched his, a striking blue that were pulsing with the crystal's light.

 _He looks like Uncle Cecil_ …she thought distractedly, her mind still spinning from her fall.

"YAH!"

A pair of towering legs struck Kain in the side of his head, and he cried out as he collapsed on top of Ursula, his lance clattering to the floor. Ursula grunted at the sudden weight pressed upon her chest, gasping for breath as she tried to push him away and blink the granules of darkness out of her eyes. A few moments later, a pair of hands threw Kain off of her, and she was greeted by her father's concerned frown. A trail of dried blood was running down his temple to his cheek, and his lip had been split open, but he was alive – glory of glories, he was _alive_!

"Father!" Ursula sniffled, reaching up for his arms. He lifted her to her feet, but quickly turned away, glaring at Kain's fallen form.

"Stay focused, Ursula!"

"R-Right!" Ursula gasped, spinning forward and raising her palms in the air once more, readying her next attack. Kain coughed, pushing himself up to his elbows and grasping for his lance as he started to shake with laughter.

"Impressive. You are undoubtedly your father's daughter, girl. But no matter!"

He climbed to his feet, giving a quick bow before bending his knees and launching himself into the air, leaping over their heads and landing upon the crystal dais. The light in the room flickered, and the Crystal of Wind was snatched away from its pillar of light, grasped between Kain's pale fingers. He pressed his lips to the crystal, laughing manically as he gazed into its fading luminescence.

"No!" Yang moaned, lowering his head. "Kain...how could you?" Ursula was paralyzed in place, and could only watch with her mouth agape.

Kain shook his head gleefully, tucking the crystal under his arm and propping his lance against the dais. "Lest you be confused, allow me to assure you that this is not a repeat of the past. I am acting on my own volition – my own free will!"

He jumped down the dais steps, his boots thundering as he hit the floor. Before he fled through the exit, he reached to his hip and tossed something glittering toward Yang and Ursula. It was the key to the crystal chamber, sliding across the tiles and stopping right at their feet.

Shaken from her trance, Ursula growled and bolted out after Kain, but was amazed to find that he had already disappeared when she slid into the throne room. The castle was completely silent – the enemy had retreated.

* * *

In the throne room, Yang had collapsed upon his throne, head in his hands. Ursula was pacing back and forth relentlessly, and Sheila was sitting on the arm of the throne, rubbing her hand in small circles over Yang's back. The duke consort and chancellor had joined them from their hiding places once An and Bale had fetched them and given them the all-clear; Cole was making the rounds to assess the damage to the castle.

"In the end, we couldn't stop the Crystal of Wind from being taken to Baron," the duke sighed. Yang moaned, shaking his head.

"Forgive me. It was because of my weakness…"

"Who was that guy?!" Ursula shrieked. "An agent of Baron's?! I've never seen him before!"

"Well, once upon a time," Sheila frowned. "But the rumors were that he defected from Baron nearly seventeen years ago. Quite frankly, I thought he was dead by now since no one had seen hide nor hair of him this whole time."

"He _was_ leader of the Baronian Dragoon corps," Yang explained tiredly. "Kain Highwind."

"Ex-Baron military?" Ursula raised her eyebrows. "He seemed to be around Uncle Cecil's age – would they have known each other? Uncle Cecil used to lead the Red Wings, right?"

Yang hesitated. At this point, he supposed it didn't matter… "They were best friends. They went to the moon together, too."

"…What?!" Ursula came to a stop, pressing her hands to her mouth. "Does that mean…Uncle Cecil endorses this? Kain said he was doing this of his own free will!" Yang shook his head.

"I simply don't know, Ursula…Please."

"The flames of past wars flicker anew," the chancellor sighed. "The other crystals must be in danger as well, if they have not yet already been taken – Earth, Water, Wind, and last, Fire…Baron only flexed a fraction of its power…it will only be a matter of time before the others fall as well…"

Ursula watched in dismay as her father sunk lower in his throne. The duke and chancellor were staring at the floor, and even Sheila was despondent, gazing down at Yang sadly. Ursula marched to the throne, her hands on her hips. "Hey! This isn't over, you know!"

Everyone turned to face her. Even Yang raised his eyes. Ursula took a deep breath and waggled her finger.

"We haven't lost this battle yet! Not by a long shot!"

Yang blinked. "Ursula..."

"We can _take back_ the crystal!"

* * *

 _17 years prior_

 _Fabul, crystal chamber_

A young girl, no more than seven years old, was kneeling next to a fallen dark knight. Her mop of green curls was hanging in her eyes, drenched in sweat as she unsuccessfully tried to shake the dark knight to his senses. Yang was collapsed against the crystal dais, the Crystal of Wind freshly relieved of their care by Kain and Golbez just moments before. Edward was muffling a sob behind his hand, his eyes red and rimmed with tears.

The girl sighed, giving up on the dark knight and rising, her tiny arms crossed over her chest. "What's wrong with you? They took Rosa, but they didn't hurt her. We just need to rescue her! And the crystal - we can _take it back, too_!"

* * *

 _Fabul, present day_

A small smile formed on Yang's lips as he stared at Ursula. Once more, his eyes had been opened by the innocence and wisdom that oftentimes spouted from the mouth of babes. Sweet Rydia had taught him so much about resilience and hope in their short time together – and had made the dream of having a daughter of his own so much more bittersweet in those dark days. "Yes...you're right!"

Ursula blinked, taken aback by this sudden change of heart. "Father...!"

Yang jumped from the throne, rolling his shoulders back and cracking his knuckles as he glanced back at the princess.

"Ursula, take care of the castle for me."

"Where are you going, hon?" Sheila blinked.

"To Baron."

The chancellor nearly jumped out of his robes. "Wh-what!? That would be suicide!"

Yang shrugged. "I must see Cecil about this! There is simply no other course of action at this point. I can't just wait around for another kingdom to be attacked."

"Well, then I'm coming too," Ursula frowned, stomping over to Yang. "If Kain Highwind is really there, I need to give him a piece of my mind." Yang shook his head.

"You're staying here. I asked that you please watch the castle."

"This isn't just Fabul's problem. The entire world is under attack! How can I sit here and watch a pile of bricks and mortar knowing that?"

Yang frowned, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest. Sheila sighed, approaching Ursula and giving her a tight hug.

"Please be careful, Ursula!" she smiled sadly, holding Ursula's face in her hands and kissing her forehead. Ursula widened her eyes, and Yang spun on his heels, his face red.

"Sheila! This is not your permission to give…!"

"And nor is it yours," Sheila snapped, stepping away from Ursula. "She's a woman who can make her own decisions, and the future queen of Fabul. She showed unwavering strength in the crystal chamber with Kain – she _saved my life_! I can think of no better training for our queen than engaging in diplomacy with foreign nations. You, Cecil, Edward, and King Edge won't be around forever – she needs to depend on her own relationships to blaze a path for Fabul long after you and I are gone – how do you expect her to forge them if she can't engage when it is most critical?"

"I assure you, I'm prepared for whatever happens!" Ursula begged. "I won't be a burden!"

Yang looked away. _Damnit, Sheila…you're right, as always._ He shook his head. "My duke...please forgive the selfish deeds of your monarch – may I ask that you watch the castle in Ursula's place?"

Ursula gasped softly, and the duke stifled a chuckle. He couldn't help it – sometimes it was satisfying to see Yang put in his place – he was still human, after all.

"Quite all right. I'm not too old to serve my kingdom yet."

Sheila smiled. "The two of us'll keep everything running while you're gone."

Yang bowed deeply, his ponytail sweeping over the floor. "Thank you..."

"What can I do to help?" Ursula asked eagerly. "We should get going as soon as possible, right?"

"Princess, why don't you go down to the docks and locate the captain of our fleet?" the chancellor asked. "You'll need to explain the objective of the mission and how many men you expect to take with you."

"Yes, sir!" Ursula nodded, quickly counting on her fingers. "Let's see…me, Father, An, Bale and Cole, right? That should be enough?"

"That is acceptable," Yang said warily, and Ursula nodded, turning and fleeing from the throne room. Yang and Sheila looked at each other, and Sheila grinned.

"You should take a cue from her, dear – she's not going to let any of this get her down. With Ursula by your side, you'll be back home in no time. Do not forget – she carries the blessings of the Crystal of Wind, same as you!"

* * *

After Ursula had made all of the arrangements, the new party of five prepared for their departure. Ursula was sitting at the edge of the docks, her bare feet dangling in the water as she stared at her muddied reflection, constantly shape-shifting thanks to the lapping waves.

 _Kain Highwind…so you've graced Fabul with your presence before, it would seem…and you were one of the people who saved our world seventeen years ago..._ Ursula clenched her fist, resisting the urge to spit out of rage into the harbor. _What the hell happened to you? If you hurt Uncle Cecil, Aunt Rosa, or Ceodore…I swear, I'll…!_

"Ah, there you are dear!"

Ursula raised her head, watching as her mother stepped onto the dock, with Yang, An, Bale, Cole, the duke, and the chancellor in tow. Ursula rose to her feet, an uneasy feeling fluttering in her chest. All of a sudden, their impending journey felt real – and no one had actually disputed that they were indeed on a suicide mission… She slipped into her shoes, and found herself pulled into a tight embrace by Sheila.

"Take care of yourself, Ursula! Give it your all out there!"

"Yes, Mother!" Ursula choked, having been pulled into her mother's bosom. She gasped for air and pulled back, flushing. Sheila turned to Yang, her hands on her hips.

"…Listen, honey. If anything happens to Ursula, I'll make sure YOU pay for it. And it won't just be the frying pan this time!"

Yang blanched, wincing at what Ursula could only imagine was a very painful memory. "Y-yes! Yes, my dear!"

"...Mother!" Ursula blinked.

Sheila stepped away, and the duke consort took Yang's hand into his own.

"Leave the kingdom's affairs to us."

"I shall."

The chancellor snuffled forward, and Ursula could swear she saw tears in the old man's eyes. "Master Yang, Princess Ursula...Please come home safely!" He patted Ursula's arm awkwardly, and all she could do was nod. It was a strange feeling to not be yelled at by the chancellor, for once.

Once they boarded the ship, the captain approached Yang, giving a quick nod to Ursula.

"The princess told me everything, Your Highness – Make yourselves at home. It'll be a bit of a journey. We'll take the roundabout path for safety, so we may not land in Baron until late tomorrow." Yang nodded and turned to Ursula, who already run to the ledge of the ship and was waving to the others. An, Bale and Cole were watching her, diligently standing guard a few feet away.

"Raise anchor, men!" the captain ordered, and the sailors gave a salute.

"Aye-aye, sir!"

Yang approached Ursula, resting one hand on her shoulder while raising the other in departure to Sheila. Sheila waved back with both arms, blowing kisses with tears streaming down her cheeks. As the ship picked up speed and left the port, Sheila and the others began to get smaller and smaller, and soon were nothing more than specs of black against the late afternoon sky.

"Mother…" Ursula bit her lip. "Why is she crying? It's going to be OK…She knows that, right?"

"Your mother is watching everything she has dedicated the last thirty-five years of her life to float away on this barge," Yang said softly. "You'll understand when you are a bit older – it _never_ gets easier to say good-bye to the ones you love, no matter how many times you've done it before."

Ursula looked up at Yang, who was still staring in the direction of Fabul, his jaw clenched. She had always thought it was so easy for her father to run off whenever he pleased for training, because that had always been what HE had dedicated his life to…but perhaps he was telling her that was not the case after all? She cleared her throat, anxious to break the spell of unspoken anxiety that had settled upon the two of them. "So, what will we do once we reach Baron?

Yang turned to face her. "Attain an audience with Cecil and determine the truth behind these affairs. If we are lucky, Queen Rosa or Cid may be able to help us. We should keep Ceodore out of it if at all possible – but I'm sure Rosa is already taking care of that…"

Ursula bit her lip. Once again, the haunting visage of Kain Highwind filled her vision, making her heart pound uncontrollably – an undeniable warning racing through her blood. "What if Uncle Cecil's already in enemy hands?"

Yang lowered his eyes toward the deck of the ship. "Ridiculous! That could never happen...not to Cecil."

Ursula snorted, turning away. "How lucky he is…" Yang looked at her questioningly, and she shook her head, gazing upon the twin moons.

"You give _him_ such absolute, unwavering trust."

"Aaagh!"

Yang and Ursula both looked up, watching as a sailor scuttled down from the crow's nest he had been keeping watch in above them, limbs flying as he raced to the captain's quarters.

"What is it?" Yang shouted, and another sailor near the front of the ship holding a scope shook his head.

"M-monsters!"

"Father!" Ursula cried. "We have to help!"

Yang nodded. "Ready yourself, Ursula! We must not let them harm the crew!" He nodded toward An, Bale and Cole, who were waiting on standby for orders. "You three – evacuate everyone below deck!"

"Yes, Master!" they chanted, and split off to herd the sailors to safety. Moments later, a bone-chilling scraping could be heard on the ship's hull, and a tribe of Sahagins pulled themselves onto the deck, their claws leaving deep, curling grooves in the wood as they dragged themselves to their feet. They were humanoid fish that could walk and use their limbs to sometimes hold spears, although they typically fought prey with the claws that emerged from their webbed feet and hands. One of them let erupt a shriek that made Ursula's ears ring, tiny rows of piranha teeth gleaming in the retreating sunlight as bands of drool rained from its extended jaw. Turning its lamp-like eyes on Ursula, it lunged toward her, only to be stopped by her foot ramming into its gut.

"Yah!" Ursula grunted, sending the Sahagin smashing into the deck railing and toppling overboard back into the sea with a raucous splash.

It only took a few minutes for Yang and Ursula to dispose of the onslaught, which had not been very well coordinated on their enemies' part. When they were sure the coast was clear, they summoned the sailors and the monks back to the deck and the captain began to stroll about the ship to investigate for damage.

"I've never heard of monsters storming the deck of a ship before," Ursula frowned.

"The arrival of the new moon must be affecting the world's creatures in strange and unpredictable ways. You noticed how the number of monsters increased exponentially on the path to Mount Hobs, did you not?"

"Yes…" Ursula trailed off, staring down at her feet. The memory of getting thoroughly chastised by her father after the Mom Bomb was still raw – she would have given anything to be able to wake up and do this morning all over again, knowing what she knew now. She and Yang could have fled with the crystal safely in their grasp and gone off to hide it, instead of now chasing after it and diving into what was sure to be uncertain danger, sabotaging monsters aside.

 _This has undoubtedly been the longest day of my life…everything I thought I knew, and everything I thought was sacred – it's all been turned on its head. And even though I'm with Father, I've never felt so alone…_

An hour later, Ursula and Yang were settling down to dinner with the monks, who had managed to land a few fresh catches for them, when they heard yet another commotion coming from the crew who was standing watch of the ship.

"There's a Damcyan craft starboard, Captain!" a sailor exclaimed, and Yang and Ursula lifted their heads from their meal in curiosity.

"Hah hah!" the captain laughed jovially, all of the stress from the monster attack long-forgotten now as he pulled out his scope and peered through. "Is that Captain Cowan manning the ship, eh? We're racing 'er to the docks, ye dogs!"

"Aye-aye, sir!" the sailors laughed, and Yang stood up, approaching the west railing. Curious, Ursula set her makeshift plate down and followed him, peering over his shoulder.

"A Damcyan ship?" Yang blinked, trying to peer through the darkness. Sure enough, a vessel with black and gold Damcyan banners had begun to drift into view, traveling from the northeast. In the distance, Ursula could hear the two captains of their respective ships giving each other hell as they shouted over the rolling waves. Two figures were approaching the new vessel's deck, one of them raising a lantern.

* * *

"Is that...Yang!?"

A man as pale as moonlight itself lifted his lantern further out, narrowing his eyes. The sea spray had made soft waves out of his sandy blonde hair, which he fussily pushed back behind his ears. A white cloak rippled gently in the wind, and he tugged down at his jade and saffron scarf, pulling it away from his mouth so that it fell just below his throat.

His secretary, a willowy woman who was concealed under layers of tunics and coats to combat the nighttime chill, raised her eyebrows and pushed her glasses further up her nose. "As in the king of Fabul?"

He nodded excitedly. "Yes. You could not find a stronger or gentler monarch…nor one half so brave. It's been ages since we last spoke…!"

* * *

Yang shouted across the sea now that their ships had finally managed to get closer – there was no doubt now who was on the other vessel – and it couldn't have been a coincidence on why they were here. "Edward! Are you sailing for Baron as well?"

"Yes, that's right!" Edward exclaimed, and his secretary approached the railing of the ship, pressing her lips together. She saw that it was not only Yang onboard – he was accompanied by Princess Ursula, and a company of monks. In other words…it wasn't a merry little family vacation.

"Their destination is the same as ours?" she blinked.

Edward turned to face her. "Indeed. Fabul has picked up on the same signs we have, no doubt. Ah, what a shot of confidence, knowing that he's on _our_ side!"

Edward's ship pulled further ahead, and soon Yang could no longer see them. Fully expecting the captain to bark new orders to the crew – apparently, they were in a race now, after all – he waited patiently for them to eventually catch up so that he and Edward could continue their impromptu conversation. But after a few more minutes, they had actually seemed to be slowing down – their sails had deflated considerably, and were impotently flapping above them with nothing to do.

"Mmm?" Yang glanced up, and Ursula frowned.

"It appears we're losing speed."

Damcyan's ship disappeared into the night, and the captain approached.

"Looks like those monsters did more damage than I thought," he shook his head, glaring at a few crew members who were staring at the sails, slack-jawed. "Don't just sit there! This ship needs repairs, men! Get to it!"

"Aye-aye, sir!"

Yang and Ursula reluctantly returned to their dinners, which had grown ice-cold. As they listened to the crew bolt up and down the stairs to and from the hold and shout expletives, Ursula swallowed the last of her fish, letting a yawn slip out. Just as she was contemplating the merits of taking a nap, the captain returned again, and Yang stood up to meet him.

"Well?"

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it looks like we sustained some serious damage to the rudder and the propeller."

"What? So what happens now?"

The captain shook his head. "The monsters really gunked things up down there – they must have been gnawing at the hull of the ship before they came aboard because the sailors discovered flooding where the mechanics for those pieces are housed. We can drain the flooding, but parts that control the hull and the propeller are disintegrating from the monsters' acid excretions. Without either of those things, we're going to lose velocity, which means we'll move at a crawl unless we get some hurricane-level winds to push us along. I'm willing to keep going until we get to the nearest shore, but we can't go much more than that, I'm afraid, or the parts will simply break under the strain of normal operation."

"The closest shore?" Ursula frowned. "We're not anywhere near Baron, are we?"

"Correct. We're closest now to the Adamant Isles."

As they drifted toward the chain of tiny islands that were becoming visible to the west, Yang asked the captain to show him the damage. They descended under the ship, and Ursula slumped onto the deck, burying her head in her hands.

 _Unbelievable…! What else could possibly go wrong?_

When the captain and Yang emerged from the deck, they were still talking, and the sailors were preparing to dock the ship at the shore.

"So some sort of lubricant could allow us to operate at full power again?"

The captain nodded. "Some palm oil should work. It's not the best lubricant in the world, but it'll do for now...the real benefit would be the enzymes it has to reverse some of the damage. Someone would have to be down there to constantly re-apply for the duration of the trip, but we could manage it…"

Yang crossed his arms over his chest. "I apologize for being blunt Captain, but we are on urgent business."

"I know, I know. This is the best I can come up with if our only resource is this island," he gestured toward the landmass they had managed to dock at safely, a small stretch of sand that was swallowed by a shadow-drenched forest. The light of the twin moons might had been able to provide guidance, but that was only if it could penetrate the scores of trees rising high into the air. "Let's just get what we need and get moving again. Remember that this is an unexplored island, so there's no telling what's out there. We're too far from the island the village of Mythril is on to get backup."

Yang nodded thoughtfully. "Then I'll go. I can spot a palm tree easily enough."

Ursula tugged at Yang's arm. "Father, I'm coming too..."

"You will wait here," Yang ordered, and Ursula sulked – but dared not argue. If she caused enough trouble, Yang might drop her off in Mythril once they were seaworthy again and go to Baron by himself.

"Let us go with you, Master!" Bale exclaimed, and Yang shook his head.

"Enough worrying about me. I will be back in a short time. Stay here with Ursula, all right?"

"Be careful!" the captain warned, and Yang lumbered down the gangplank of the ship, disappearing from sight. A few moments later, Ursula watched his form bob against the sands of the beach, and then enter the depths of the forest, without once ever looking back at them.

Ursula looked away, drifting into the hold of the ship. After peaking through a few ajar and closed doors, she found a closet-sized berth where she could take a nap in relative peace. As she slumped into the hard, scratchy bed, she saw An poke his head in the room.

"Resting up, Princess?"

She nodded glumly. "Don't worry…I'm not going to run off."

"We'll just be on the deck if you need anything," An said kindly, and closed the door. Ursula sighed, turning onto her side and closing her eyes.

"Father..."

* * *

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in Baron Castle. Morning sunlight was warming her body through stained-glass windows, and she was now in a luxurious pile of silk and satin blankets, her head resting upon a jewel-toned pillow filled with downy feathers.

"Huh?" Ursula blinked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "How did I…?"

The room was empty save for a few vases of flowers and non-descript banners and antique weaponry hanging from the walls – nothing that helped indicate where she actually was. As she swung her legs out of bed, her bare toes brushed against something velvety – she bent down and picked it up, pinching it between her fingers. It was a blood-red rose pedal – and there were scores more of them winding around the bed and leading to a bow window identical to the one in her bedroom back home. It had been left slightly open, the summer breeze drifting in like a hug from an old friend.

"Hello?" Ursula called, standing up and looking around. Silence greeted her in reply, and she realized with a twist of her stomach that she couldn't actually see a door that would allow her to exit.

 _Irk…maybe there's a balcony underneath the window? How did I get in here in the first place if there is no door?_

The rose petals crunching under her feet as she wandered over to the window, Ursula hesitantly pressed her palm to the glass, gazing out. Below, she had the perfect view of Baron's beautiful rose gardens – a well-kept secret spot that only the royal family and a few close friends regularly spent any time in. Blooms of all colors were exploding in every corner, overgrown bushes lolling into the ivory brick pathways and tendrils of vines climbing up the garden walls.

As her eyes swept over the scenery below, her breath caught in her throat when she spotted the first body – blue and twisted in an inhuman shape, it was a woman dressed in white, her blonde hair shining like liquid gold over the pure white petals of the roses her mangled body was thrown upon. Patches of red blossomed beneath her, staining the surrounding flowers that had become her final resting place a watery pink.

 _Queen Rosa…!_

Ursula let out a scream, banging her fists against the windows, the glass refusing to yield to her strength. Across the way, she spotted another body, it too, curled in an unnatural way – a long torso, slender legs, and silver hair the color of moonlight hiding the face she knew belonged to Cecil Harvey, who was face down in a bed of pink roses. A stain of red was streaked over his shattered crystal-plated armor in the middle of his back, the still-fresh blood cascading down his ribs.

 _Cecil too…Gods, WHY!?_

There came footsteps, and Ursula's eyes jerked to a new figure who had entered the garden. It was a tall young man, with floppy platinum blonde hair, wearing the uniform of a Red Wings cadet with a red and white scarf trailing down his back. For a moment, his eyes traveled to the window Ursula was pressed against, the crystal-blue orbs so luminous that she wanted to dive into them like an ocean and submerge herself in their sacred light.

"Ceodore!" Ursula cried, her fingers wrenching at the window as she tried to pry it open further. "Don't look…!"

But another figure emerged, tearing Ceodore's attention away from the window. He gazed up, enthralled as Kain Highwind entered the garden. His helmet was removed, but all Ursula could see was his back – his hair had been liberated from its ponytail, and was falling over his body like a curtain. Kain reached out, lifting Ceodore's chin in his hand and tilting it slightly, as if to direct him to something. Ceodore eagerly obeyed, his eyes falling on Cecil's broken body. Ursula watched with horror as Ceodore sank to his knees, and Kain reached behind him, unsheathing his lance and positioning it directly above Ceodore's left shoulder – where it would plunge straight through and find its mark in his heart.

"Ceodore!" Ursula wailed, closing her eyes and throwing her entire body into the window. The glass shattered, raining down in slow-motion as Ursula plummeted forward, tears obscuring her vision. Just as her feet were about to touch the ground, she heard the wet sound of flesh tearing asunder, and saw the lance drive into Ceodore's back. He arched his body in shock, his eyes wide as a trail of blood escaped his bow-shaped lips. Ursula felt a shadow wash over her, strong arms wrapping around her waist as a knife flicked open against her throat, the ice-cold blade reflecting the images of the twin moons hanging low in the sky.

"FATHER!"

* * *

"AHHHH!"

Ursula shot up in bed, her hands immediately flying to her throat as she desperately inspected it for blood. When she felt nothing but streaks of sweat, she took a shaky breath, pushing her fingers through her hair and trying to fight the sobs that were caught in her chest.

 _What the hell was that…?_

She barreled out of bed and stomped up the stairs to the deck, where the sky had grown yet darker. The monks were sitting around a fire on the beach, talking animatedly. Most of the crew appeared to be asleep on top of various crates strewn about the ship. Ursula marched to the gangplank, but saw no sign of Yang emerging from the woods. The captain approached her, gently resting his hand on her shoulder and making her shriek and jump.

"Don't worry. Master Yang will be back before you know it."

 _It's been hours! What if something happened…?_ Her mind immediately replayed Ceodore's slaying from her nightmare, and she almost got sick on the deck right then and there. _What if he…?_

She whirled around, swinging her legs over the ledge and lowering them onto the gangplank. "I'm going!"

"What?!" the captain cried, and Ursula broke into a run across the sands before anyone could stop her. The three monks looked up from their fire, scrambling to their feet as she was swallowed whole by the woods.

"Princess Ursula!" Cole called out, and they took off after her.

Ursula paused once she had run a few more yards, panting and pressing her palms to her knees as she caught her breath. She had realized upon entering the forest that she had secretly been hoping Yang was just on his way out, and that would be the end of it. However, all signs indicated that no one had been here for a very long time, and it was eerily quiet.

 _How far in did my father go, anyway?_

"Princess!" An cried, and she turned to see the three monks catching up with her. "Are you OK? You shout out of the ship like a bat out of hell."

"Do you think it's suspicious that my father hasn't returned yet?" Ursula replied, and they paused.

"Well…yes, it's rather unusual for Master Yang to not complete a task as efficiently and quickly as possible," Bale admitted. "But he also told you not to follow him."

"Well, if I am not mistaken, his orders for you to protect me trump something as silly as that," Ursula pursed her lips. "So are you coming with me, or not?"

* * *

 _Fabul, 17 years prior_

"Well, I'd best get things going for dinner!"

"Thanks."

Sheila leaned in, kissing Yang on the temple before sauntering off to their en-suite kitchen in the western tower. It had only been a few months since he had officially been crowned as king, and she queen, but she couldn't be happier that seemingly nothing had changed at all. She hated all the fancy ceremony that came with the title – even in Fabul, where fanciness was at a minimum, it was still too much for her. She had grown up in a household raised by a harried single father and five older brothers – decorum was a foreign concept. Immediately upon being crowned at her coronation, Sheila posed for a painter to sketch her in her tiara and gown, and immediately ran upstairs to strip her clothes off and drop the tiara into a box that got shoved into the back of the wardrobe, never to see the light of day again. She refused the duke consort's generous offer for them to take over his suite – what she and Yang had was just fine, thank you very much, and it had her most favorite thing in the world – her own wood-burning stove so she could cook Yang his favorite dishes whenever she pleased.

After Yang had come home from the war, he made it his personal mission to raise the ranks of the Fabulian monks once more, being that all of their most seasoned warriors perished in a freak monster attack on Mount Hobs, leaving only students in the castle when Yang had joined the war effort. Throwing himself into his training hadn't been much of a change since before war had broken out, but Sheila had noticed that now when he came home, he had a bounce in his step and a glint in his eyes she hadn't seen since they were engaged. It made home life a lot more exciting – and as a result, she was keeping to herself a secret that that was about to bring them a lot more happiness in the coming months. Finally, everything was coming together – the life they had dreamed of when they were children was at last in their grasp. Yes, it had come a little later than both had expected, but…when the reward was this wonderful, what was a year or ten?

Unfortunately for Sheila, her body had been rebelling at the idea of keeping her secret much longer, and she was finding it harder and harder to keep her symptoms hidden from Yang, who was normally as observant as a hawk about everything she did. If she even cracked an egg differently at breakfast, he would be asking her what was wrong – that was what happened when your wedding anniversary crawled into the double digits.

As she exited the throne room, Sheila felt the telltale rolling of her stomach, and the sickness rising in her throat. Gagging at the taste, she covered her mouth and doubled over, trying to swallow it back down before Yang noticed. "Ngh...!"

 _Morning sickness is a joke – this nastiness comes whenever it damn well pleases!_

Yang immediately leapt from the throne, rushing to Sheila's side. "What is it?"

Sheila stood back up, blanching a bit at the burning sensation in her throat as she pressed her fingers to her lips. "Oh, nothing…"

Yang looked her up and down. "You look pale, my dear."

Sheila flushed. "I'm fine. I'm not sick or anything." _Ooops…that was a bit too obvious, wasn't it…?_

Yang put his hands on his hips. "Then...what?"

Sheila watched him for a moment, and then smiled, shaking her head. Hell, now was as good a time as any – they were alone, the castle was relatively quiet – and happy news before dinner always made it taste better anyway. "Hee hee! It's a child – our child."

Yang blinked, his mustache twitching in confusion. "Wh-what!?"

Sheila smiled harder, her jaw clenched. "Aren't you happy?"

Yang nodded, turning away and blushing fiercely. "Of, of course I am! I just thought…well, after all this time…I thought we couldn't…! Sheila…you've created a miracle."

" _We_ have, hon…"

* * *

 _Adamant Isle, current day_

 _Mmmm...perhaps further in?_

Yang had gotten lost – again. Between this labyrinth of a forest and his persistent daydreaming, he didn't even want to know how long he had been away from the ship. He knew time was of the essence, but for once in his life, he just couldn't bring himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Worst of all, it was now so dark out that he didn't even think he could identify a palm tree if he came across one – he had realized only too late when he had entered the forest that he wasn't exactly sure what one looked like.

 _Maybe I should have brought Ursula, after all…lately, it seems as if I do not know the right thing to do until well after the fact…I wonder when that started happening?_

* * *

 _Fabul, 16 years prior_

"Yah!"

"Yah!"

"YAH!"

Yang nodded disinterestedly along as An, Bale and Cole practiced their stances, flowing gracefully from one move to the next. They kept glancing at each other nervously, wondering if Master Yang was about to pass out – he was so pale and sweaty, as if he had exerted himself, yet he hadn't moved an inch since he had ordered their impromptu training session. Only moments earlier, the King and Queen of Baron had arrived, and had made their way to the western tower, where Queen Sheila had been ensconced all morning, yet Yang had refused to even glance behind him.

Finally, after another round of exercises, An stopped, and Bale and Cole gingerly paused as well, legs mid-air.

"Master Yang?" An breathed. Yang said nothing – he was in a total daze.

" _Master Yang_!"

Yang blinked, looking up. "Mmmm? What? Done already?"

Bale snorted. "Won't you even take a day like this off?"

Yang reddened, raising a finger. "Training exists _especially_ for days like this!"

"…Assuming your mind is in it, that is."

The duke consort appeared behind them, his eyebrows raised at this most amusing exchange. Yang turned to face him, flustered. "Duke..."

"She'll be giving birth any moment now. Go now, and be by her side."

"But...!" Yang looked down at his feet. On a battlefield, he had some use. In a hospital room, not so much…wouldn't he just get in the way?

"Wah! Waaah!" A baby's cry erupted from the western tower like a peeling church bell. Yang gasped, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. _Could it really be…?_

"Master Yang!" Cole exclaimed.

An gave him a shove from behind. "Go on! Hurry!"

Yang found that his feet were flying before he could even comprehend what he was doing, glancing back to the others before bursting through the courtyard doors. "Right!"

* * *

 _Adamant Isle, current day_

"This. Is. Insane."

Ursula growled as she stomped through the underbrush, a tree branch coming close to smacking her in the head. Before any of the monks could warn her, her hand flew up, grasping the branch and snapping it in half as easily as if it were a twig. As she tossed it away without a second thought, An, Bale and Cole exchanged a secret look, their eyes wide with awe. They knew what Master Yang seemed to not understand – that out of all of his students Fabul, and perhaps even out of all the students he had ever trained, including themselves – none were a natural-born fighter with as much raw potential as Princess Ursula. With the proper training, she stood to become a legend – but it didn't look like that was ever going to happen, for reasons they had never known, nor ever dared to question.

* * *

 _Fabul, 10 years prior_

"Yah! Hah!" The little girl took a deep breath, pressing her palms together and bowing deeply to indicate she was finished with her routine. Yang could barely contain his pleasure as he clapped his hands.

"Oooh! Nice work, Ursula!" he exclaimed, and she gazed up at him.

"Really?"

"Really."

Ursula giggled. "So I can be big and strong like you someday, Daddy?"

Yang smiled happily, kneeling down and wrapping his arms around her. "Oh, of course, of course."

"Yippee!" Ursula squealed, wriggling out of his embrace and dancing erratically. Yang stood back up, shaking his head.

"Ah, but remember, Ursula, there's something I want you to cherish even more than that. Do you remember what I told you?"

Ursula raised an eyebrow as she kept dancing. "Uh-uh! No way! I'm gonna be big and strong like you, Daddy – that's all I care about!" She struck a pose, flexing her tiny biceps and letting out a growl. "Grrrrr! Ursula, the little bear – ready for action!"

* * *

 _Adamant Isle, current day_

Yang came to another dead end, letting out a sigh. Everything really was starting to look the same now, save for the sky – dawn was on the verge of breaking, ushering them into a new day – and still the twin moons hung in the sky above, silently observing the lost king. Yang let a yawn slip out, standing on his toes and extending his arms high in the air to allow himself to at least enjoy a satisfying stretch. How long had it been since he had last been up all night like this? It had used to be when he was younger, he would stay out all night training with his "brothers" in class, and after Ursula was born, nights became ripe for her tears and illnesses – and finally, when she had finally been able to sleep through the night and move into her own room, nights were back to being for Sheila and himself, where they would promptly pass out and attempt to brave the new day – parenthood was more exhausting than any war.

As Yang lowered his arms, he swore he heard the snap of a twig – or several. Holding his breath, he slowly pivoted, trying to pick up the sound again.

He wasn't alone – _somethin_ g was in the forest with him.

* * *

 _Fabul, 3 years prior_

"Hon..."

"What?"

Sheila had returned to the throne room, where Yang was still slumping against his throne, staring into nothingness. He had Ursula had had a blowout fight, resulting in buckets of tears (Ursula) and bellowing that had surely scared off the neighborhood monsters (Yang). Sheila had finally been able to implore Ursula to retreat to her bedroom, where Sheila had tried to calm her down and convince her to go to sleep and start fresh the next day. It had only been after Sheila had successfully lured a student to keep watch after Ursula's bedroom to nix any thoughts of running away that she felt safe enough to go back downstairs to her husband.

"When _are_ you going to start giving Ursula her formal training?" Sheila asked, and Yang glanced up at her.

"You too, huh? My answer is the same as what I told her tonight: Not until she understands it for herself."

Sheila sighed. "Understands what for herself?"

"Kindness. Honor."

"She _is_ kind! And where could you find a more honorable young lady!?"

Yang looked away. "True enough, but she still yearns for strength above everything else in her life. _Everything._ "

Sheila nearly burst into laughter, and had to cover her mouth. "This, coming from you? I say what's good for the goose is good for the gander."

Yang looked up at her, and the darkness of his eyes made her think better about letting the laugh slip out. There was something mournful in his gaze – something she hadn't seen since the day Ursula had been born.

"…She's my daughter. _My one and only daughter._ After everything you, I and Fabul have been through, my dearest wish for her is to only ever know peace – that's all I have _ever_ wanted since the moment I held her in my arms."

* * *

 _Adamant Isle, current day_

"Palm trees!" Ursula exclaimed, falling to her knees dramatically and raising her fists in the air. "We did it! Praise the gods!"

They had broken into a small clearing, dawn's light starting to trickle through the canopy of the forest. Clustered in a little colony were a variety of palm trees, each oozing with plenty of oil for the taking. Ursula held out her hand, and Cole dutifully handed her the first several bottles they had emptied on their journey through the forest – it had only been after they were thoroughly lost that they realized they didn't have anything to bring the palm oil back in, if they found it before they found Yang. Ursula had insisted they suck down any extra potions they had on-hand and save the bottles – they hadn't encountered any monsters, and they needed the energy to plod through anyway, since no one was getting any sleep.

"This ought to be enough…" Ursula smiled as she filled the last bottle, and handed it back to the monks. "Anyway, now that daylight will be here soon, it will be much easier to look for Father and get out of here. Let's get these back to the ship, and we can strategize."

"Mrrrrrrgrrrrr…."

"Eh?" Ursula turned around, a scream catching in her throat. An, Bale and Cole had silently surrounded her, their arms extended. A massive Adamantoise had bellied up to them, completely blocking the exit from the clearing that would take them on the path back to the ship. A blue-skinned tortoise with poison-tipped fangs that fell into a bucket of steroids, Adamantoises were typically harmless to humans, unless one were to stumble into its nest, which it considered an act of aggression. And unfortunately, this one had been particularly fond of palm trees, and was just returning home after a night of hunting.

"Princess!" An glanced at her over his shoulder. "Stay back! We'll handle this!"

"Uh…!" Ursula backed up until her rear hit one of the palm trees, her eyes wide. This was the biggest monster she had ever seen in her life – could three monks really take it down? She watched as An, Bale and Cole rushed forward, relentlessly showering the beast with kicks and blows – but nothing seemed to phase it _. I think they're just making it angrier!_

Unfortunately, the confirmation of her thought followed quickly – with one sweep of its warty flipper, the Adamantoise caught all three monks at once, bulldozing them into a stunned pile of bodies until they smacked into a tree. Ursula gasped, ignoring the monster's eyes trailing her form as she ran to the monks, kneeling at their side and checking for grievous injuries.

"Are you OK?" Ursula cried, digging in her pouch for her last remaining potions, with the monks had insisted she keep on her even as they were emptying their other bottles. "Here, you each need to drink one of these…!"

"Princess…those are yours…" Cole moaned.

An shook his head. "Just run, Princess…you'll need those in case you run into anything on the way to the ship…!"

"No way!" Ursula cried, popping a cork off one potion and forcing it down An's throat. "I'm not leaving you – we're going to escape together! DO YOU HEAR ME?" She shoved the other two uncorked potions in Bale and Cole's hands, respectively, and whirled around to face the Adamantoise, who had now fully become entranced by Ursula and was making its way toward her, flipper raised.

"No!" Ursula cried, throwing her arms out to protect the others. "You're gonna have to go through me if you want them again!" Her voice trailed off as her eyes frantically searched the Adamantoise. She had been observing where the monks had made their attacks, all of which were grossly ineffective. But still…there had to be at least _one_ weak point she could exploit somewhere…

* * *

 _Fabul, six months prior_

A giant boulder had been rolled into the courtyard that morning by Yang and a few of the other high monks. Two students were taking turns punching and kicking at the boulder, but after ten tiring minutes, they both collapsed on the ground simultaneously, breathing heavily and rubbing their raw, bleeding knuckles.

"What? Is that all?" Yang raised his eyebrows – he had been observing them silently from a corner.

One of the students looked up, wiping the sweat from his brow. "This is impossible, Master Yang! It's just too hard..." Yang glanced to the other student, who could only nod his agreement – he was still catching his breath.

Yang shook his head. "Trying to crush it through sheer force will only serve to bruise your knuckles. Every object has a weak point – that includes humans and monsters. Find it, concentrate upon it..."

With one precise kick, Yang slammed his foot down upon the boulder, and it shattered into dust and gravel before their eyes.

"…And you no longer need to exhaust your strength. It's a technique called Tenketsu."

The two students stared in awe, quietly applauding Yang. Hidden away on an overlook, Ursula pressed her lips together, her eyes wide. "Tenketsu…"

* * *

 _Adamant Isle, current day_

"Father...I'll try my best!" Ursula whispered to herself, her eyes focused on what looked like a hairline fracture on the Adamantoise's shell. Taking a running leap, she propelled herself off of the Adamantoises's skull, somersaulting in the air and drilling her foot into the heart of the fracture. With a jarring crack, the shell split open, the monster throwing its head back in dismay as Ursula bounced away and watched it fall off in two halves with an earth-shaking crash, leaving its back and underbelly completely vulnerable to attack now.

Ursula felt a strange presence behind her. Whirling around, she saw Yang watching her from behind two tall bushes, his brows knitted together and his mouth set in the slightest of smiles.

"Father!" Ursula cried, but he shook his head.

"Keep your eyes on the enemy!"

"Er, right!" Ursula nodded, turning back to the Adamantoise and diving back into the fray to deal out more hurt. This time, the monks, now fully recovered thanks to her medicine, joined in too, and within minutes, the beast finally gave up and collapsed to the ground, a death rattle escaping its throat as it started to crumble into dust.

Ursula sighed in relief, running over to the monks to check on them once more.

"Everyone good?" she chirped, and they all nodded, beaming.

"Well done."

Yang had emerged from the woods and come up behind her, nodding approvingly at the fast-fading monster. Ursula flushed, immediately bowing down and folding her hands. "Father! I'm so sorry…I know I disobeyed your wishes – I had a nightmare on the ship and became terrified – I let my emotions weaken my resolve and the result was a rash decision."

Yang raised his eyebrows, kneeling down so that he could face her. "Ursula...I saw everything. You always had strength...but now, it is affirmed by the heart – the heart to save your companions in need."

Ursula raised her head, the tip of her nose stained red – a telltale sign she was about to burst into tears. "I only carried out what you taught me to do, Father."

Yang grasped her hands, pulling her along with him back to their feet. "From this moment on, consider yourself my newest disciple."

Ursula blinked. _Did he say what I think he just said?_ "You mean...!?"

Yang smiled. "Don't expect special treatment, though. Not even my own daughter is allowed that luxury."

"Father!" Ursula gasped, throwing her arms around him. Yang patted her on the back, still not being able to help but grin.

"Spare me your tears. I am no longer your father. I am now "Master" to you."

"Yes, Master!" Ursula pulled away, smiling and bowing once more.

"Off to Baron, then – we've still a long way to go."

* * *

The party made their way back to the ship just as the sun had fully risen over the horizon, only a few patchy clouds in the sky joining in for the day. A fierce northbound wind had begun to pick up – Ursula wondered if the Crystal of Wind had heard their silent prayers all the way from Baron – or wherever it was now.

"Master Yang! Princess! You've all come back safely!" the captain exclaimed as they made their way aboard.

"Will this work for you?" Yang asked, and the monks proceeded to hand over all the bottles of palm oil they had been carrying. The captain nodded eagerly.

"Amazing work, my liege! This should do fine!"

"I need no thanks," Yang glanced over at Ursula. "My pupil did all the work."

The captain blinked. "Pupil?"

"I have been accepted as Master Yang's newest disciple!" Ursula exclaimed, and wanted to squeal at just how right that sounded coming out of her mouth. Oh, how she had longed to say those very words for so long…

The captain shook his head, eyes watering. "Princess...what an amazing day for you."

Ursula blushed, waving the comment away. She realized the old her would have relished in the praise and acknowledgement, but as Master Yang's pupil, she had to work on her humbleness perhaps just a bit. "Er, please call me Ursula. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Well, if you're offering...I'll need help refining this palm oil to make it a usable lubricant. It needs to be brought to a certain temperature first. Could you lend a hand? If we work together, we should be to Baron in the blink of an eye."

"Sure!"

* * *

As the ship made sail once again, Ursula fluttered about the deck, making sure her assistance was no longer needed before finally settling back in with Yang. She had noticed the entire time she was working that he hadn't said a word to anyone, not even An, Bale or Cole, and had been staring out at the ocean since they departed.

Ursula cleared her throat as she stood beside him. "Master..."

Yang tore his gaze away from the sea, looking down at her. "What is it?" He realized he had never asked her about the nightmare she had told him had spurred her to flee the ship, and wondered if she would be willing to share it with him.

Ursula bit her lip, the wind tearing a lock of hair out of one of her pigtails and sending it whipping across her cheek. "I feel a tremendous sense of foreboding ahead of us…At first, I was so happy we were moving forward, but…it's all suddenly faded away."

Yang nodded sadly. "So you've noticed it, too..." That turncoat Kain had been correct: she was undoubtedly her father's daughter.

"Yes…" Ursula trailed off, her eyes darkening as Ceodore's death at Kain's hands danced before her once again. She felt a dull throb in her heart, even though it had all just been a dream.

 _Ceodore…it didn't occur to me until now that you must be as scared as I for Uncle Cecil…I pray you are safe, and that my dream meant nothing…_

Yang suddenly stepped away from Ursula, calling out to the crew on the ship. "Lash yourselves to the ship."

The captain blinked, so surprised that he let go of the steering wheel. "Wha…?"

"Now! Do it!" Yang growled, and the captain gulped. What choice did he have if it was an order from his king?

"Y-yes, Your Highness!"

The captain and his crew scrambled to secure themselves to the ship using any means necessary – some hauled out ropes, others unfurled supplies that had been held in place by bungee cord and strapped themselves in instead. Ursula watched Yang in shock as he continued to stare toward the horizon.

"This dread I feel..." he murmured. "It's just like back then…" The ship began to shudder violently, and Ursula tripped forward, catching herself on a mast before crashing to her knees and clinging to it for dear life.

 _I knew it!_

Ahead of them, the ocean began to twist fiercely, the ship groaning as it spiraled toward a whirlpool that had broken the surface. Turbulent bands of water smashed into the sides of the vessel, and Ursula let out a scream as she heard the first pangs of wood splintering and snapping apart beneath them. Behind her, she could hear the monks murmuring among themselves, and the sailors simultaneously cursing and praying aloud.

"Why is this happening!?" Ursula cried, turning her head toward Yang as salty spray washed over her. His unblinking stare had risen to the twin moons, an unsettling veil of serenity cast over his features.

"I can feel it…the seas are being guarded no longer. _He_ would not allow this to pass...not again, and not knowing what he does now."

"What!? Who!?"

"The Lord of the Seas, Leviathan. He's absent from his domain – perhaps not even of this dimension any longer. I suppose the same can be said of the Sylphs as well..."

"What does that all mean?" Ursula sniffled, and Yang finally turned to look at her, his gaze somber as another wave crashed over them.

"It means this is beyond Baron, and beyond mere crystals – our world is facing an unprecedented crisis."


	17. Act Seventeen: Edward's Tale

Act Seventeen: Edward's Tale | The Moonlit Rhapsody

 _Kaipo, 17 years prior_

"Poor thing…to be orphaned at this age, it's almost crueler, isn't it?"

"At least as a child, sometimes you are able to forget…"

The young woman closed her eyes tighter, as if that act alone would block out the sound of her fellow mourners. But still, their whispers drifted around her hauntingly, clinging to the fibers of her black cotton shift like an unpleasant odor. Transferring her weight from one knee to the other, she took a deep breath, inhaling the spicy, woodsy incense that hung in the air above. Her hands were sheathed in black lace gloves that itched, and her rich navy blue hair, which normally garnered compliments and requests to stroke it from whoever laid eyes upon it, was hanging down her back in oily, rain-drowned tangles. A small black veil had been hastily clipped in her hair, obscuring what little she had left of her vision without the assistance of her glasses, which were folded and tucked away in her pocket.

But the truth was, she didn't really want to be able to see any of what was before her clearly – not the two portraits that had been hurriedly selected from her parents' walls, both several years old as they had not sat down for one as a family since she had left for university – and certainly not the piles of tropical blooms that had been gathered from the desert that looked alien against the gray, rainy backdrop of the sky and the two mythril urns that she knew contained nothing within and merely stood for ceremony.

 _"There was simply nothing left to recover…We did our best, but…the fire from the bombing took everything. I'm so sorry, Harley."_

And if she went another day in her life without hearing the words "I'm sorry", that would be OK too.

She felt the bench she was kneeling on sink with a groan, and when she opened her eyes, she saw her neighbor – or at least the person that used to be her neighbor, when she had lived in Kaipo, watching her. His ruddy face was set in a kind, pathetic smile, but most importantly, his eyes had dared to meet hers. Everyone else had looked away as they gave their condolences, and it was obvious to anyone that the mourners wished they could be anywhere else in the world other than their rain-drowned little oasis, hosting yet another funeral for their fallen countrymen.

It had been only two weeks since Castle Damcyan had been suddenly and brutally blown to bits by the Red Wings in an unprovoked aerial assault to steal the Fire Crystal. It was days into the aftermath that the castle's few survivors had been able to make their way to Kaipo to find help. Some remains found in the castle had been identifiable, one of note Miss Anna, a fellow resident of Kaipo who had been Prince Edward's bride-to-be and was the daughter of the Great Sage Tellah. The "lucky" villagers were able to have confirmed for them by the castle survivors that their loved ones had been there when the bombing took place, gifting them at least a semblance of closure since they had no bodies to recover. Those who were not so lucky could only assume the worst, and prepared funeral arrangements as well.

"How are you doing, Harley?" he asked softly. "You've been kneeling there for near thirty minutes now. A stretch might do you good."

She nodded, her dark blue eyes flicking back to people who were quietly murmuring around her. If she did leave, they wouldn't notice – all of these funerals were probably starting to blur together by now.

Besides, she had run out of prayers twenty-five minutes ago. What else could one possibly say to their dead parents other than "I'm sorry it wasn't me"?

The man stood up, offering out his hand. Harley took it, and when she had pulled herself up to her full height, she towered several inches above him.

"I think I'll take a walk around the village," Harley said quietly. She made her exit from underneath the shelter that had been erected and stepped back into the warm rain, retrieving her glasses from her pocket and sliding them back on underneath her veil.

Although her parents had been among the first to have been identified as victims in the bombing, word had not reached Harley until only a few days ago. She had been practicing an oral dissertation in a mirror that was her final requirement for graduation when the knock had come on her little dorm door, swiftly yet laden with hesitation. When she had opened it, she was greeted only by a small boy whom she had seen delivering various messages before throughout Troia, although none of them had ever been for her until now. He silently handed her the note, of which she saw the wax seal had already been broken, and fled. It was not unusual for messages to come pre-read nowadays – it was an unfortunate side-effect of no longer being in peacetime, and the rampant paranoia of war had already reached Troia's shores, sparked by the theft of the Earth Crystal by the troublesome Dark Elf.

The first line in the letter had been simple and to the point, without any flowery language, which Harley appreciated far more than she thought she would have at the time.

 _Harley, there was an accident at Damcyan Castle, and I'm sorry to have to tell you that your parents are dead._

* * *

After the funeral, she spent a few more days in Kaipo, closing up her parents' house and donating whatever was salvageable to the survivors, including anything she had left behind when she had originally departed for school. When she was able to hitch a ride back to Troia, she wrote letters via pigeon carrier to the only two people there who would have made note of her absence, and hoped that at least one of them would be waiting for her at the docks.

When she finally arrived home, she was greeted by both her mentoring professor at school and her boyfriend, and wordlessly fell into their arms.

 _I can never return to Damcyan,_ she thought to herself. _There's nothing left for me there – but maybe not anywhere else, either…What do you do when living one day at a time is suddenly too much?_

* * *

"So, do you feel ready for your dissertation tomorrow?"

Her boyfriend, Gerad, was fumbling with his coat as he was preparing to walk her back to the dorm for the night. She had run through the entire presentation with him for what would be the final time, with all of the last-minute tweaks she had dreamt up on the way over.

"I'm adequately prepared, I should think." Harley buttoned her black dress coat, grunting with frustration as she pulled her long hair out of the collar where it had gotten caught. _I've got to start wearing my hair up. I don't care if it's not the style for a young lady – it's terribly annoying._

"You're not nervous at all?"

"That would imply I am not ready, would it not?"

"Well…you can still be nervous, even when you're happy."

"How so?"

He turned to her, and for the first time, she noticed his cheeks were flushed, a shock of black hair falling over his eyes that he would have normally swept away by now. His hands, both stuffed into his pockets, were shaking. Harley arched one slender brow. Surely just discussing this was not bringing back memories of his own dissertation from a year ago? It wasn't that bad, was it? She didn't feel anxious about it at all – did that mean there was something wrong with her?

"Oh, hell – I wanted to wait until after, but…I've been carrying this thing around for weeks," he pulled out his hand, uncurling his fingers to reveal a delicate silver band with a sapphire nestled within. Harley blinked, and felt her glasses starting to slip down her nose from a sudden outbreak of sweat, but didn't make a motion to adjust them. She was frozen in place, and her heart had taken residence in her throat.

Gerad swiftly took Harley's left hand in his own, sliding the band over her finger and gazing down at her. It was a little big – sliding down to her knuckle as her fingers bent forward.

"I wanted to do this before…well, before everything happened with your parents. But now that you know you want to stay in Troia after you graduate…I took it as a sign. I want you to marry me, Harley. I'll make you happy – you don't have to be alone anymore. That's what you want, right?"

Harley stared down at the ring, but couldn't bring herself to say anything, even though her mind was racing with hundreds of thoughts. _It's true…I don't want to be alone. I never want to be alone again…but does that equate to true happiness?_ He laughed apprehensively, gently letting go of her hand.

"You don't have to answer now. I can see the wheels turning up there. Let's talk after you knock that dissertation out of the park, OK?" She kept staring at him, and he scratched his head.

"Or, you know, any time after. Just…take your time."

The air filled Harley's lungs again, and a small smile broke across her face.

"Thank you…I mean…er, well, you know," she held up her hand, the sapphire winking in the dying sunlight pouring through his bedroom window. "It's really beautiful." He laughed, shaking his head. With Harley, that had gone as well as could have been expected – he would have fallen over in a dead faint if she had reacted even remotely like a normal girl.

He escorted her to their usual half-way point – the Troian castle, which was beginning to light up for the night. Harley lifted her hand to wave good-bye, and suddenly felt awkward when she saw the jewelry now adorning her finger – like it was a neon sign flashing something vulgar above her head. Blushing deeply, she quickly pivoted on her heel and sped past the guards, who were changing for the evening post. As her boots crunched on the gravel of the walkway, she thought she heard an enchanting chime ring through the air – at first, she thought it was the castle bells, but the hour was yet too early. Pausing, she tucked her hair behind her ears, and found her eyes searching at the very tops of the western castle towers, where a single window was illuminated with yellow light.

Sure enough, the chime rang again, and after some hesitation, was followed by a serendipitous cascade of one silky note after another. Harley drew in a sharp breath, her heart bouncing along to the hurried, but melancholic rhythm. The new guard stepping outside caught Harley staring, and smiled.

"That's Prince Edward playing his harp. He gets a little stronger each day – I've never heard his song so clearly until tonight."

Harley blinked. "Prince Edward? Of Damcyan?" The guard nodded.

"Yes – didn't you hear? He washed up here and was found by a passerby. The Epopts took him in to nurse him back to health. He's not seeing visitors though – he's in really bad shape."

"Of course," Harley nodded. She and the guard stood in silence until the notes drifted away a few moments later, and the light went out in the window of the tower. As she turned to make her way back to her dorm, she felt the tiniest hint of a flutter in her chest.

 _That song…it was so serene, yet steeped in despair – like he captured all of the nightmares within my heart and turned them into something tortuously resplendent._

 _He too, understands what it means to mourn not only the dead, but to mourn the fact that you were the one who survived without understanding why… What were we left behind to accomplish? That's what his song was asking…I'm sure of it._

* * *

Two months later, another insistent knock came at Harley's door. When she opened it, she once again found the small boy who had been the unknowing harbinger of the news that destroyed her world. This time, the letter he handed her was sealed – peace was upon them once more, the war coming to a swift and sudden end when a group of five heroes had gone to the moon to destroy the threat that had been pulling humanity's strings like a puppet master.

But unlike before, when the seal had just been a broken wax smudge hurriedly applied by her neighbor, this one had the crest of Damcyan Castle embossed within. Harley felt her heart pound as she closed the door with her hip, her finger already sliding through the seal to pry it open.

Having successfully defended her dissertation _("How Mana Manifests in Non-Magic Users Using the Human Bond as a Catalyst")_ , Harley graduated and found herself wondering she could possibly do next to keep herself and her depression from wandering down a dark path. Prince Edward was finally well enough to leave Troia, but word had quickly reached their shores that he was overwhelmed in managing the rebuild of Damcyan and was looking for an assistant to help him through it. Remembering the music she had heard on that strangely lonely night and how it had resonated in the depths of her heart, Harley wrote a passionate plea for the job and posted it before she could change her mind – she couldn't even remember what she had said, she had been in such a fervor – and she had forgotten about her vow to never return to Damcyan again. Since she had expected nothing to come from it, she supposed it didn't really matter.

But much to her surprise, she had actually gotten a reply requesting her appearance for a trial request – the job would only last for a day or two while Edward was out of town at the future King Cecil of Baron's coronation, but Harley found herself stirred by the opportunity to get a change of scenery, even if it did mean returning to a place that no longer contained any of the people or things she had once loved. Strangely relieved that she did not have to explain anything to her fiancé, who was out of town on an expedition to study black chocobos up north, Harley made her way to Damcyan, completed the task, and had returned to Troia without anyone knowing – having heard nothing else until now.

Pushing her glasses up her nose, Harley's eyes began to scan the letter.

 _Dear Harley,_

 _It would be my sincere privilege to ask if you would consider undergoing training to become a secretary that would serve the whole of Damcyan. You being here for just a short time greatly impacted our project for the positive, and I would be anxious to see what you could do for our future with a full dedication of resources under your express control. I hope you will take this request under serious advisement – I know a bright, idealistic woman like yourself has many opportunities fighting for her attention, and I will be disappointed if I should lose out. However, I know that no matter what path you may choose to take, the world will be better for it._

 _As such, I will close this request by humbly asking if you would consider returning home._

 _All the best,_

 _Edward Chris von Muir_

Harley bit her lip, reading the letter thrice over before folding it and sliding it onto her desk.

She had never told Prince Edward, either in her initial letter to him or her in-person visit, that she had used to live in Kaipo. She had spoken of losing her parents in the war, seeking purpose, her dream of finding that minute ray of hope that was in the bottom of Pandora's box – but she had never been specific about _her_ particular circumstances.

 _Did he attempt to learn more about me after I departed?_ She wondered, her brow furrowed. _Or was he able to somehow sense that he and I shared the same terrible fate? Is that why his music drew me to him in the first place?_

 _Is fate a type of bond between humans, too, I wonder?_

She picked up the letter once more, memorizing the textured grain of the paper as she trailed her fingertips over it, and noting the rush of her pulse when they brushed the Damcyan seal _. Edward has a vision – hope for a future that isn't blighted by war, where one_ _can_ _go home again and begin anew…is that what I want to believe too…? I feel like it's been so long since I've felt the warmth of hope…_

Lifting her left hand, she eyed the silver band wrapped around her finger – a promise that she would never have to be alone again – a promise that someone would love her until the end of time, the gods willing – the same kind of promise Anna and Edward had made.

* * *

Gerad's eyes lit up when he saw Harley sitting upon the small hill by the swimming pond in town. Normally it was covered in sunbathing beauties who were anxious to give their worship to the sun, but at night it stood mostly deserted, especially since the summer had not yet reached the glorious zenith where the sun shone long into the evening hours. Harley, pale and ethereal and always cold, was wrapped in her favorite black coat, her hair swept into a bun that was sculpted with the precision of a surgeon's hands. Wrapped in the iridescent light of the stars, she was the human version of the moon goddess, Selene.

"It's been a while," he smiled, starting to sit down. But instead, Harley stood up, her lips pressed in a small smile in return. He faltered a bit, catching himself before plopping down in the grass.

"I've accepted a position in Damcyan as secretary-in-training to the future king," Harley said, her voice lifting near the end of her confession. Gerad paused.

"Um…don't you have to be in Damcyan to do a job like that?"

"Yes."

He frowned. "But…I thought you said you didn't want to ever go back? Too many bad memories?"

Harley looked down at her feet. "I thought that too, yes…but perhaps I was not being rational at the time, with everything that had happened. This is just something that feels right…something my heart tells me I have to do." She looked up at him. "Which I understand is not me being rational now, either. It's just hard to explain, I suppose."

"I'd say…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "So…you just want us to pack up and go, just like that? I just got my job at the university I'd had my eye on for so long…would there really be anything like that for me in a place like Damcyan? It's a hub for trade, right? Is there really a place for someone as educated as the two of us to thrive? There was a _reason_ you left all those years ago, right?"

Harley closed her eyes and took a slow breath, mentally counting to five. She anticipated that pushback, of course. She had practically scripted their entire conversation on the way to the hill, and most of it was unfurling exactly as she had expected – that was how well she knew Gerad. Taking his hand into hers, she willed herself to look into his eyes, even though she was screaming on the inside.

"You belong _here_ , living _your_ dream. I could never take that away from you, and I would never ask you to give it up for me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did…you would grow to resent me for being so selfish. I don't think I understand what _my_ dream is, quite yet – but I think I've found the place where it can come into bloom once I do."

He looked away, clenching his jaw. She could see the beginnings of tears gather in the corners of his eyes – they shone like diamond dust in the light of the full moon. His voice shook as the poisonous words spewed out. "What are you saying? That you want to go to Damcyan – _alone_?"

She could only bring herself to nod – she knew she was being a coward, but she didn't think her heart could take much more – she was watching a man break before her very eyes. Prying open his fingers, she deposited the silver ring, and was simultaneously relieved and ashamed by the lightness in her chest as soon as it had left her grasp.

 _"I'm sorry."_

* * *

 _Damcyan, the night before the moon's return_

"I have urgent business to discuss with the king! is His Highness present?"

The guard narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you would lower your voice, sir...The king is currently occupied with matters of utmost importance."

The man who had addressed the guard threw his hands into the air. He was wearing green robes and his cheeks had gradually gone from shades of red to the rich purple of a plum – you could practically see his blood pressure jumping off the charts and making a run for it across the Damcyan desert. "There is no time for that. There are serious financial matters that must be addressed at once…!"

The guard sighed. How many times had he needed to have this same exact conversation every week as of late? He didn't get paid enough to deal with this passive-aggressive game between nobles. "We were ordered not to let anyone through, sir. If you would kindly return at a later time...it's very late tonight anyway. Can it really not wait until the morning?"

The man reached into his robes, smacking a pile of papers against his hand. "This is an insult! I have come to conduct official business!"

"What seems to be the matter?"

A woman entered the antechamber, her navy hair wrapped into a bun that was tucked under the black velvet academic cap she had pinned to her hair. A purple thigh-length tunic peeked out of her form-fitting black dress coat, with matching black leggings underneath that were ideal for both her modesty and for climbing up tall ladders in the library. Black, rectangular glasses sat above her pert nose, and gold orb earrings dangled from her lobes that matched the clasps on her coat, which wrapped loosely around her narrow chest and abdomen.

"Ah! Harley!" the man exclaimed, grasping her hands excitedly. "Could you help me talk some sense into these people?"

Harley blinked. What exactly had she walked into here? She had just been making her rounds before heading to bed for the night. "What is the problem, Chancellor?"

The chancellor dumped his papers into her hands, and she nearly fell forward from the weight. "Our ledgers have yet again fallen into the red this month. Damcyan is facing a severe financial crisis!"

Harley licked the tip of her finger as she flipped through some of the pages, quickly scanning through the most pertinent data.

 _Well, he's certainly not lying. But it's not THAT bad…Edward must have been evading him for quite a while if he's getting this worked up._

She put the papers back in order, and gave her best professional smile – not too eager, but just shades above listening to your ancient grandfather tell the same story about how he heroically defeated a Goblin in his backyard – _again_. "Allow me to consult with the king _personally_ about this."

The guard huffed. "But His Highness explicitly requested no visitors." Harley turned to him, tilting her head innocently and reaching up to adjust her glasses. "Not even me?"

"Er..." he flushed, looking away. He always had weird flashbacks about the cute librarian he had had a crush on when he was a kid whenever Harley looked at him like that, and it was unnerving. The worst part was, he was pretty sure she knew what he was thinking – you couldn't get anything past that woman.

The chancellor beamed. "Well, then. Thank you very much for intervening on my behalf, Harley." He patted her back appreciatively, and she bowed.

"Not at all. Now, if you two will excuse me…" she gently pushed past the guard and opened the throne room doors. Sure enough, Edward was lounging on his throne, his eyes closed and his fingers absent-mindedly strumming his harp. As soon as Harley stepped inside, the music came to a halt, but he refused to look up at her. His flaxen hair was hanging over his shoulders, his sapphire headband that he wore in place of a crown shyly peeking out beneath the wispy bangs that fell over his brown eyes. His legs, which were curled up in the throne, were dressed in orange slacks with a light square pattern stitched throughout, and tucked into brown calf-skin boots. He wore a yellow lace-up vest with silver plate armor over his shoulders and arms, along with a white cape that he had thrown over one shoulder and a silk-screened green and yellow scarf to act as a mask in the desert winds.

"I believe I left specific word to turn away all callers," Edward said coolly, and as if to punctuate his point, plucked a sour note on the harp that made Harley shudder – it was like nails on a chalkboard.

"Even your own royal secretary, Your Highness?" she asked, eyebrows raised. He finally lifted his gaze, sighing and lowering his harp next to his throne.

"Is this an urgent matter?"

Harley fanned through the papers she had been gifted with. "Doubtful, my lord. I trust it is the chancellor worrying himself over trivial matters yet again. I suspect he is more upset about you not acknowledging his concerns."

Edward shook his head. "What is there for _me_ to acknowledge? This is about our support pledge, I suppose. I thought I had left you in charge of that matter."

Harley felt a flush crawl up her face. Yes, he had left her in charge – but the chancellor had obviously not been made aware of that fact, nor had Edward apparently done any due diligence in terms of making sure the support pledge was for a realistic amount that could potentially slip under the radar. "I fear we can no longer keep it under wraps, Your Highness. Perhaps some reconsideration is in order."

Edward shook his head. "There is no reconsidering to be done. The recovery of Damcyan was only made possible by our neighbors in Mist and Fabul."

Harley sighed. _This again?_ "Certainly, my lord, but to extend ourselves now to Eblan as well...I know you were concerned about them continuing to auction their kingdom's treasures, and I moved the funds around where I could to purchase as many as possible. But the chancellor is not incorrect about us now having stretched ourselves into the red – our plan was counting on additional exports being made this month to make up the difference, and that has not happened."

Edward shrugged. "Even in that instance, I was counting on you to take care of it for me. Only you have the talent for this post. Just mollify the chancellor's concerns and find a potential solution that he can work on himself so he is out of my hair. I just want to help my friends, Harley…the chancellor doesn't understand the true state of Damcyan's debt – he just sees numbers. You're the only one who understands what I am trying to do."

Harley looked away, gritting her teeth. "...It is a great honor to hear such compliments, Your Highness. But even I cannot make money appear out of thin air. I'm not saying we should not help Eblan, but perhaps there is a different way that we could still be of assistance to them. Would you at least consider that?"

Edward nodded. "The affair is in your hands. Just do whatever needs to be done."

Harley looked down, bowing quickly. "Yes, Your Highness."

 _King Edward hasn't even talked to King Edge since the auctions started up again. He's just assuming Eblan is in trouble – but from what all my research has shown, they appear to be fine. Perhaps His Highness knows that King Edge would not tell him anything anyway, but…I just don't understand why Edward is jumping into this again all of a sudden. If he wants me to do whatever needs to be done, then perhaps I should just talk to King Edge myself…_

When Harley reached the throne room doors, she paused and looked over her shoulder. "If I may, my lord..."

He blinked. "Yes?"

Harley put her hands on her hips. "I believe there are times when the head of a kingdom must act with a firm, calculated hand. If the support pledge is something you really believe in, you must help your people understand why it is something they should believe in too. Then perhaps you would not feel as compelled to sneak around."

He watched for a moment, noticing that her eyes never moved away from his. She was waiting for a response, and she wouldn't leave until she got it. Finally, he relented and nodded. "True enough."

That did the trick. The doors opened, and she disappeared from sight, pulling them shut behind her.

Edward hauled himself off the throne, wandering over to the nearest window and staring up at the cloudless night sky. Beneath, the sands of the Damcyan desert swirled in the wind, forever shifting – it was never the same desert each time he looked upon it, yet _he_ felt exactly the same. When the castle had been rebuilt, he had had the windows in the throne room restored exactly to the specifications of the previous castle's – it had been this particular window through which the flaming arrows had been launched that stole Anna's life, where Edward had been standing before Anna pushed him out of the way. He often wondered if time had stopped for him on that day – certainly, his body had aged, but nothing else had seemed to evolve within him to better prepare for what he was to become seventeen years later. _Is it because I was supposed to be the one who died that day, and now fate doesn't know what to do with me?_

 _The head of a kingdom...But no matter my title…Neither Damcyan nor I would be here now were it not for their voyage to the moon. Cecil…Edge…Rydia… I don't know how I could possibly ever make up for such a debt…I would do anything to make this pain go away…_

Suddenly, a flash of white light tore across the sky…

* * *

"A falling star!?" the chancellor bellowed.

He, Edward and Harley were gathered in the throne room the next morning to debrief on last night's and that morning's strange events – except that the chancellor had apparently slept through all of them like a rock.

"Yes," Edward nodded, resting his head on his hand as he crossed his legs. "It appears to have landed in the vicinity of Fabul…"

Harley blinked. "Ah…so last night's earthquake that I felt…"

"Indeed. The shockwave from the impact, no doubt."

Harley bit her lip as her eyes flicked to the window. "Have you considered that it might be related to that second moon?" It had appeared so suddenly that morning that she could hardly believe it – she had to wipe her glasses down twice before she convinced herself it was real.

Edward closed his eyes. "…Yes."

The chancellor started bellowing louder, racing about the room like a kid hopped up on sugar. "Then...then the horrors of the past have returned! The gods spare us, it's all over!"

Edward lifted his head, sighing. Really, it was too early for all of this – he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night – that shooting star had become burned in his brain and it was all he could see when he closed his eyes. He had been tempted to visit Harley and see if she was still awake, but had talked himself out of it. _What would she think of him, coming to her in the middle of the night?_ "Calm yourself, Chancellor. It is too early to make such conclusions."

Harley cracked her knuckles through her gloved hands, a habit that made everyone cringe but no one dared correct her on. "I think a full investigation of this object is in order, Your Highness."

Edward frowned. "I would like to inform Baron about this first. Cecil's viewpoint would be very helpful to us right now." Harley shot him a look, but the chancellor was all over it – he hated to admit it, but the idea of Cecil potentially driving Edward to make a decision about the shooting star made him feel more confident than Edward making one on his own.

"I will summon a messenger immediately!" the chancellor declared, and fled the room. Harley sighed, approaching the throne with less formality now that they were alone.

"Your Highness. If I may presume to ask, please allow me to handle the investigation. We can still conduct one while the messenger travels to Baron – it won't hurt anything to do so." _Besides, this is YOUR domain, Edward – you need to start acting like it!_

Edward stood from his throne, his brows knitted in concern. "Are you sure, Harley?"

"I believe I have the requisite knowledge and experience for the position, my lord."

"It will be dangerous."

"Then allow me to bring several members of your guard along for emergencies."

Edward frowned. _She had been a little too prepared with that remark – so she realizes it will be dangerous too. I can't let her go alone…_ "I will join you."

Harley shook her head. "But, Highness…Who would guide our kingdom should something happen in your absence? I will be hardly missed – you, on the other hand, are a totally different story."

Edward looked away. He couldn't help but feel like he was being pushed away on purpose, like a little kid tugging on his mother's apron in the kitchen. Everything she said made sense, but…was he really so incapable that she didn't even want him around for a measly investigation? "Still..."

Harley rested her hand on his shoulder. "Please, my lord. You have nothing to worry about. This is why I am here."

* * *

"My lord! You called for me?"

The chancellor burst into the throne room, sweeping into a quick bow. Edward didn't even see it – he was gazing out the window again, his eyes glazed over in thought. He couldn't even remember what had happened throughout the day – Harley had left with a company of guards shortly after their conversation, and after that, it was a blur of faces he had forgotten and stretches of time where he would reach for his harp but just end up holding it in his hands, not playing a note. At least the chancellor had stopped harping on him about the budget – the return of the moon had at least been useful in that respect.

"Has Harley returned?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid."

Edward frowned at is reflection in the glass. "Is there any word from the messenger we sent to Baron?"

"Unfortunately, there is not, Your Highness."

Edward clenched his jaw, looking down at the floor. "Too much time has passed. Something has happened to Harley."

The chancellor raised a hand. "We could deploy a search party upon my daybreak, my lord. Please remember that Harley had several guards with her – and she's no pushover, either. She's come a long way with self-defense training since she first entered through these doors."

Edward nodded listlessly. He knew it was his constant underflow of anxiety that was tricking him into overthinking the situation – once in a while he had the lucidity to realize when he was perhaps being irrational. Usually though, Harley was that lucidity – it was so much easier to function when she was by his side. "A wise idea. We will wait until sunrise."

"Yes, Your Highness. I take my leave, then." The chancellor bowed, even though he knew Edward could not see him – he had not turned away from the window once throughout their entire conversation. He had been doing that more and more lately – he would transport himself decades in the past and barely register the presence of those in front of him. "Your Highness? I suppose you did not get a great deal of sleep last night, either. Please, try to get some rest."

"I will. Thank you, Chancellor."

"Goodnight, Your Highness."

Edward heard the doors close behind him once more, and the overwhelming relief that came with being alone once more washed over him like a warm, soapy bath. He gazed up at the twin moons once more, pressing his lips together.

 _Anna...Tellah…_

He turned away from the window and bent down to retrieve his harp next to the throne. As he exited the throne room for the night, he swore he heard the scuffling of footsteps coming from the west – that was the tower Harley's room was in. _Did she come home after all?_ Before he could stop himself, he climbed up the tower stairs and approached Harley's suite of rooms. But instead of a flash of blue hair, he saw instead a blonde maid stumbling out into the hall, her arms covered in laundry. She glanced at Edward behind the pile and gave a curt nod.

"I was just changing Harley's sheets, sir – the bed is turned for when she comes home. Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Edward shook his head. "No…thank you." She nodded again and slipped past him, bouncing down the stairs and disappearing from sight. Edward stole a peek into Harley's room – when she had first moved in, she had nearly passed out in delight at all the space he had given to her. She wasted no time filling it with a library of books that rivaled that of the castle. Her desk, a rich mahogany piece that she had bought with her first earnings, was positioned in front of a large window that granted the perfect view of evening sunsets across the sea Damcyan bordered. It was covered in neat piles of papers and books, where he knew she would be up until all hours of the night conducting research on whatever new topic had captured her attention.

He noticed that the room felt a little stuffy – the Damcyan desert heat was no joke, and sometimes the only relief you could get was at night – and thought perhaps he should have asked the maids to crack the window. He leaned over her desk, cranking it open and smiling with relief as a cool breeze immediately washed in. Sliding some of her books over to use them as paperweights so that nothing blew away, he noticed that one was left open, and was filled with her neat, orderly cursive handwriting. Before he could stop himself, he found his eyes upon it, drinking in every word. It had been dated for that morning – she must had written it before she left for the investigation.

 _"That moon has shown itself once more. Are those terrifying days of war about to stage a return? The peace we enjoy today is wholly a product of King Edward and his companions. Military might is not what will drive our kingdom in the future. Education and science are the true catalysts. I believe this so fervently that I traveled to Troia and devoted my younger days to study. This, and nothing else, allowed me to attain the position of royal secretary that I enjoy today._

 _King Edward is too kind to me. My duties are stressful, but I find every day in this castle to be rewarding. If I could have it so, I would want this life for myself forever – a life free of war and strife. It may be my imagination, but as of late...The soothing, reassuring notes from King Edward's harp have taken on a timbre of deep sadness."_

Edward frowned, stepping away from the book. _Harley…even though I've been such a wreck as of late, you're still so happy to be here…It's been my pleasure to watch your dreams flourish and grow – I wonder why I cannot do the same for myself?_

After retreating back to his bedroom in the opposite eastern tower, Edward climbed into bed and spent what felt like hours staring at the ceiling, willing the chaos inside his head and heart to calm itself into a dull frenzy so he could at least try to sleep. Lowering his hand, he felt his finger brush against the cool metal strings of his harp at his bedside, and closed his eyes.

The gentle sound of water lapping against the shore filled his ears. When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a pool of water, which was stained the same dark gray as his harp. But his reflection within was a burst of color – he realized he was at the northernmost oasis in Kaipo – the lake where Anna and Tellah had been buried.

"Why...why am I here?" he asked aloud, his voice meeting silence. A reflection joined his in the lake, and when he looked up, he saw Anna floating above him, her red-brown hair falling over her shoulders in the same soft curls she had been wearing on what was supposed to be their wedding day. A gold circlet was wrapped around her forehead, and a matching gold and yellow dress hung from her arms, exposing her white shoulders – it had been Edward's favorite, and he had begged her to wear it the day they were to elope.

"Anna…!" Edward cried. It had been so long she had appeared in his dreams that he wanted to jump into the lake and embrace her. But she folded her hands, looking up at him with tears pooling in her cornflower blue eyes, so piercing that he felt himself stumbling back unknowingly.

"Edward..." she rasped, her voice choked with sobs.

"What is it, Anna?"

She looked down at her folded hands, the tears spilling over her cheeks and splashing into the lake below.

"Why must you look so sad?" Edward shook his head, reaching his hand out. "Anna…Please, tell me what I can do!"

Just as his fingers were about to brush over her own, she faded away, and his eyes snapped open. He was back in his room in Damcyan, his forehead drenched in sweat.

"Anna…?" he gasped aloud, sitting up. _Why…after all this time?_

He glanced at the clock hanging from his wall. It was close to four in the morning – still dark out, but that meant he had least managed to sleep until the next day. Tossing off his covers, he left bed and walked to a waiting basin of water, splashing his face and washing the sleep from his eyes. As quietly as he could manage, he crossed the walkway to the next tower, and peered into Harley's suite. It was just as it had been when he had left it the night before – the room was now pleasantly cool, but her bed was empty and had clearly been undisturbed since the sheets were changed. Shaking his head, he retreated downstairs and found himself wandering toward the castle gates. The summer bulbs that had been planted only a few weeks ago had erupted into a riot of beautiful flowers, some of them already overflowing the massive brick beds that had been installed along the path through the keep. Edward had picked every flower to be planted himself – one of the few castle infrastructure tasks he had never eventually passed on to Harley in her time there. He had grown up with a love of gardening thanks to his mother and eventually Anna, whom he had met in the desert gardens of Kaipo when she stumbled upon him playing his harp. Entranced by her beauty, he had blurted out an invitation to see the gardens at the castle, and with a bemused smile on her blood-red lips, she accepted, having no idea who he was.

"My lord, are you still having trouble sleeping?"

Edward blinked, lifting his head. He hadn't realized he had sat down next to one of the flower beds, one that carried a variety of a plant known as whisperweed. Contrary to the name, it wasn't a weed – it was a white lily that started off as long, slender blades of emerald grass that would eventually blossom into a flower – but not one of any particular beauty or charm. Because of this, it was not well sought-after by many florists – the time, effort and constant warm temperature needed to breed one to completion was not worth the effort or expense. But those who knew the true nature of the whisperweed, like the Damcyan royal family, Cecil, Cid, Yang and Tellah, understood its secret value.

Edward shook his head. "Just rising earlier than usual, I suppose."

The guard nodded. "Well, if you'll excuse me, Your Majesty, it is time for the changing of the guard. Have a good day." Edward watched as the guard disappeared inside the castle, and looked toward the empty gate. It would only remain so for a few minutes at most – the other guard starting his shift was most likely making his way from the barracks on the eastern wing of the castle. If he were going to sneak away – now was the time to do it.

 _The meteor likely landed in the area around Mount Hobs. I'm sure of it now…Harley must have met some difficulty crossing the mountain passes…!_

Edward found himself rising once more without quite comprehending what he was doing, and approached the castle gate. Just as his foot was about to hit the sands of the desert, he heard a shrill voice ring out behind him.

"Your Highness!"

He whirled around, and much to his chagrin, found himself face-to-face with the chancellor, along with three guards that he knew were some of the newer recruits to the castle – he often was a sympathetic ear to them at dinner when he would wander into the dining hall and listen to their stories about their debilitating drills for the day. It had never occurred to the guards that it was inappropriate to complain about what hard work it was to protect your own castle in front of the king himself, but Edward never judged them harshly for it – he had never been a fan of any kind of combat and admired their strength to put up with harsh conditions. He had acknowledged his limits in terms of his own strength long ago – stemming from the time Tellah, an ancient mage who had forgotten most of his spells, nearly beat him to death with just a wooden staff in his very own throne room.

Besides, it wasn't like they were Baron, where the soldiers there could eat metal for dinner and spit out nails – the most these guards would probably ever face in their tenure at the castle was an angry Sandworm.

"Your Highness, do you realize what time it is? Where are you going at this hour?" the chancellor barked. Edward laughed sheepishly.

"I just thought I'd get some fresh air outside."

The guards tittered, and the chancellor smacked his palm against his forehead. "Your Highness, we can hardly have the ruler of Damcyan strolling outside by himself! Please…at least take these guards with you."

"All right..." Edward relented, and the chancellor stepped back, shaking his head.

"And don't stray too far away from the castle!"

"I know," Edward sighed, and the chancellor gave him one last sharp look before retreating back inside. The guard that Edward had learned was the de facto leader of their little group, Amy, stepped forward, her hand on her hip as the stinging desert wind whipped through her chin-length purple hair.

"So, Your Highness, where are we _really_ going?"

Edward tilted his head. "Are you up for a visit to investigate the meteor?" Amy's eyes widened, and the tall man behind her, Toby, tugged down the scarf that he had pulled up over his mouth to protect himself from the sand – he had been being escorted by the chancellor to his new post outside before they had run into Edward and he had seemingly been reassigned to the role of babysitter.

"Isn't that where Harley and some of the others went yesterday?" he asked. "Did something happen to them?"

"That's what I'm worried about," Edward frowned, and the third soldier, Jo, slid her visor down over her red hair, which was swept into textured spikes that made her look more like a gladiator than a cadet.

"Don't worry, sir – we'll find Harley and be back in time for breakfast."

They began their journey east, Edward remaining a few steps behind his three guards and letting himself fall back into a dream state as they took care of slaying any monsters that crossed their path. It didn't register with Edward that their numbers had seemingly increased overnight – whenever he left the castle, which was admittedly rare, he was never without some sort of support anyway. The second moon hanging high in the sky, as full and round as its counterpart, brought him back to the last time he had seen the twin moons in the deserts of Damcyan – it was seventeen years ago, right after Anna had died. Tellah had stormed off in a rage, leaving Cecil and Rydia, whom at the time were barely acquainted themselves, to try to convince a defeated Edward to escort them to the Antlion Cave so that they could get a Sand Pearl to rescue Cecil's friend from desert fever.

At the time, Edward hadn't understood anything that was going on – all he knew was that the love of his life was gone, his family and kingdom destroyed for seemingly nothing (he would have gladly just handed over the Crystal of Fire to Golbez and the Red Wings if he had known the terrible price they were to pay – even knowing in hindsight what Golbez's plan had been, he would have still traded it for Anna's life), and he had been left to mourn with two strangers – one of them just a child – that were berating him for not wanting to fight back. He could still feel the sting on his cheek from where Cecil had slapped him across the face – a twisted start to what had become one of his dearest friendships.

The three of them had fled east, just like he was doing now – but at the time, the twin moons had merely been a fixture in their lives that had been around for as long as all of them had been alive. None of them, least of all Cecil, who was more deeply embroiled in the Baronian conspiracy than any of them knew, had known the terror that was brewing on the smaller of the twin moons, that a race of sorcerers called the Lunarians were frantically trying to stop one of their own, Zemus, from destroying the Blue Planet so he could take it for himself.

After Edward had helped Cecil save his friend, who had turned out to be the future Queen Rosa of Baron, he summoned the courage to join Cecil in Fabul to warn the monks who protected the Crystal of Wind that they would surely be next in Baron's crosshairs. Everything after that was a mess of memories that Edward still had never quite recovered – he remembered fighting the Red Wings, being struck down by Golbez and Cecil's best friend at the time, Kain – next they were on a ship to Baron to try to steal an airship for themselves to fight Golbez on equal terms. But something had gone horribly wrong when the ship had been attacked by Leviathan, the god of the sea, and Edward had been thrown overboard.

But miraculously, he had not died – he had not been sure of how many days or weeks he had lost, but he ended up getting rescued by the Epopts of Troia. From that point on, he had only left his hospital bed in Troia once to join the Epopts in a final assault against Golbez before Cecil and the others left for the moon. When he was finally strong enough to come home to Damcyan for good, the second moon was gone – vanished without a trace – and he had expected to never see it in the desert horizon again.

Cecil had explained everything to him when he had gotten home from the moon – that as a half-Lunarian himself, he had learned that those Lunarians who still slept on the moon, patiently waiting for the day they could live on the Blue Planet in harmony with their human counterparts, wanted to make sure something like Zemus could never happen again – that was why they had made their moon leave the Blue Planet's orbit.

 _But if the Lunarians have returned, why am I so filled with dread? They are Cecil's people…Zemus was the exception to their peaceful race. It's why I am anxious to hear Cecil's take on this…he'll know what to do. But Harley…if she gets wrapped up in an affair like that one from so long ago…I would never forgive myself. I would do anything to protect her dream of living in a peaceful world…_

"Your Highness, we have arrived. Do you want to go in, or…?"

Edward blinked, looking around. Indeed, they had arrived – he had nearly smacked into Amy with his legs still on auto-pilot when she had stopped to ask him what was next. The meteor had created an enormous crater that not only stretched west to the base of Mount Hobs, but had plummeted so deeply into the earth that he could see pools of seawater draining within. The prairieland that had been in the way of the meteor's fall had been completely destroyed – he couldn't see any grass or plants within the rocky shelves of the crater, and the land surrounding it was starting to suffer as well – dead grass crunched under their feet, and several trees were starting to petrify, their leaves and fruit already piled on the ground and rotting into sticky brown piles that were being feasted upon by desert flies and other pests.

 _What's happened here?_ Edward blanched. _Is she…Could Harley really be all right…?_

A low fog had begun to form in the deepest parts of the crater – Edward feared if it had started while Harley was deep within, it could have caused her to get lost. Turning to Amy, Toby and Jo, he gestured to the path Harley and the others must have taken to enter – their footprints still remained in the dust that had been released when the prairie was ripped apart. Even the winds couldn't reach this place…

"They must have gone this way – and I see no footprints indicating they have left," Edward frowned. "Let's hurry after them."

"We'll take point," Toby said. "Just stay close, Your Highness."

Slowly, the four of them stumbled into the crater, the rocks shifting and rolling beneath their feet causing them to constantly grab on to one another for balance. The deeper they descended, the faster the air became chilled – Edward could see his breath rising in little white puffs as he wrapped his arms around himself. Toby and Jo remained behind with Edward as Amy scouted ahead, taking care to jump over a puddle of water that had become cloudy, and was for some reason, bubbling unpleasantly.

"Ah, my lord!" Edward, Toby and Jo whirled around to find one of the guards who had left with Harley climbing down from a ledge he had been standing upon. It was a testament to how little of the outside world's light trickled into the crater that they had not noticed him until now.

"Oh, thank goodness! Are you all right?" Edward gasped, and the guard nodded.

"Yes, sir! I apologize for worrying you. Our investigation has encountered numerous snags – the latest of which were a pack of monsters that climbed out of one of the bogs down here. I assure you, however, that it was nothing we couldn't handle."

"Where is Harley?" Edward asked quickly, and he pointed further down the trail Amy had taken.

"Straight ahead, my lord. There should be someone with her. I was just keeping watch here."

They continued onward, catching up to Amy who had encountered the other guard herself. They both looked up as Edward approached.

"Your Highness! What brings you here, my lord?" the soldier blinked, and Edward tried to force out a laugh that denoted confidence, even though the tremor he thought he was starting to sense was most likely him shaking in his own boots. _Harley…where did you go!?_

"I was getting a tad antsy, sitting around waiting for you."

"It is too dangerous for you to be here, sir!" the soldier protested, glaring at Amy. "Newbie, why would you bring the king here?!"

"Because he _ordered_ me to!" Amy barked, raising a fist. Edward shook his head, stepping between them.

"Oh, I'm quite all right. If you can survive this, I certainly can. Is Harley up ahead?"

The soldier sighed, giving Amy a shove before turning back to Edward. "Yes, my lord. She ignored our pleas and proceeded further."

"I wonder where she gets that from?" Jo whispered, and Toby snorted. Edward pretended to not hear them, pushing onward.

Harley was pacing back and forth, most of her hair fallen from her bun as she frantically scribbled in the notepad she had retrieved from her breast pocket. Edward watched her from the ledge above, his arms crossed over his chest. She seemed perfectly fine – and he was surprised at how jubilant just seeing that for himself had made him feel – but something still didn't seem right. He let out a gasp as he saw a Splasher weasel its way to the bank of one of the puddles Harley kept walking by, its bloodshot eyes trailing her form as it parted its mouth open to strike. Before Edward could call out, Harley had reached to her hip, grasping a chain whip he hadn't noticed under her coat and cracking it so swiftly that it sounded like a thunderclap. The Splasher went belly-up in the water, dead, and began to dissolve into dust as it sank. Without missing a beat, Harley pulled back her whip, and flipped to another page in her notebook.

 _Whoa…_ Edward gulped. _I guess maybe it was a fool's errand to worry for her after all?_

"What could this substance possibly be composed of? It is as if the earth itself has putrefied. Could this have come from the moon?" she was muttering to herself now, and stopped pacing to scribble something else down. Edward jumped down from the ledge, and Harley looked up in surprise. "Your Highness!?"

"I told you coming here would be dangerous," Edward said, nodding toward the whip in her hand. Harley blinked, coiling it back up and fastening it back to the belt hanging above her hips.

"I deeply apologize for worrying you, my lord...I realize now perhaps I've been gone a bit longer than I anticipated."

"It will have nearly been a day in but a few hours!"

Harley glanced at the watch on her wrist, surprised to see that he was right. "But this is no ordinary meteor we are dealing with."

Edward looked around, shuddering. Was it his imagination, or was it getting even darker even though the sun surely had to be risen by now? "It certainly seems that way."

Harley tapped her notebook, her loose hair framing her face as she stepped closer to Edward. Her breath was alit with urgency, and her eyes were sparkling behind her glasses – whether it was terror or curiosity, he simply could not tell – knowing her, it was a mixture of both. "Something beyond our comprehension has landed here. That is the only conclusion I can make." She slapped her notebook against her hip, and sighed. "And what kind of conclusion is that!?"

Edward, blushing at the sight of Harley in such a rare, excitable state, glanced up toward the sky. They had descended deeply enough that the fog had started to obscure his vision. "The moon...something must be going on up there."

Harley blinked. "But why did you come here, Your Highness? Didn't you trust that I would do a thorough job?"

Edward turned to her, blushing deeper. "Uh, no, nothing like that! I just wanted to see the crash site with my own eyes. We had best return to Damcyan, Harley. This should be enough investigating for now."

"But…My lord..." Harley gestured toward the miles of crater that remained below them. "There's still so much more I have yet to see. For one thing, where is this fog coming from…?"

Edward grabbed her outstretched hand, tugging her closer. "The messenger from Baron should be back by now. Let us return to the castle."

Harley frowned. She knew an order when she heard one – it was best not to push her luck for now. "Yes, Your Highness…" She shook her hand free, and followed Edward back up the hill to where his company of guards was waiting along with Harley's.

"Heading back?" Amy asked, eying Harley up and down. "You seem OK, Miss Harley."

"I've never been better, except for this puzzler of a meteor," Harley blinked. "Were you expecting something different?"

"Well, with the way His Highness was rushing out of the castle to find you, I expected you were in some kind of real danger," Amy shrugged, and Edward clenched his fists.

"Hold your tongue, soldier…! Please take point and get us out of here."

Harley brought her hand to her mouth, sure that it was wide-open. _Edward…I thought you said you just wanted to see the meteor for yourself…? What is the meaning of this?_

* * *

After they had made their way out of the impact site, Harley fished out her notebook once more, looking over at Edward. He was back to staring at the moons, totally lost to the world. Harley cleared her throat, and he looked over at her like she was a stranger.

"Do you want to read my notes?" Harley asked, and Edward flushed, suddenly remembering how he had "accidentally" read her diary the night before. _King Edward is too kind to me..._ Holding out his hand silently, she placed the notebook in his palm.

"Are you sure you're OK, Your Highness?" Harley frowned, and he nodded, starting to read. She shook her head, pulling off her glasses to wipe the disgusting film that had built up on the lenses from the meteor, when a dark shadow in the distance caught her eye. The guards had noticed it too – they stopped walking abruptly, peering up into the sky with their hands held to their foreheads. The sun was high overhead now, making it difficult to see.

"Your Highness!" Harley gasped, slipping her glasses back on. Her vision restored, she could see what looked like a blood-red ship approaching Damcyan castle from the southwest, getting closer and closer with each passing second.

"Hmm?" Edward lowered the notebook, following Harley's gaze. His fingers trembled when he realized what it was he was seeing, and wordlessly dropped Harley's notebook, where it landed with a soft "plop" in the sands beneath them. "The Red Wings!"

Harley scooped up her notebook, pressing it to her chest like she was embracing a lost child. "Perhaps they are bringing back our messenger." Logic told her it most likely wasn't Cecil or one of his friends – if they ever visited Damcyan, it was usually by one of Cid's personal ships. Certainly, it had been a long time since they had seen _anyone_ from Baron, however…time had gotten away from everyone as of late, it seemed. She wondered if that had been part of why Edward was so melancholy as of late – now that she thought about it, he really hadn't seen any of his friends in ages. She was sure he got sick of listening to her and the chancellor spar day-in and day-out.

"I can only hope so," Edward whispered, and Harley looked at him confusedly.

"Pardon...?"

Edward shook his head. "We must hurry. The sight of the airship discomforts me."

* * *

At the castle gates, the guards disbanded. Amy, Toby and Jo stayed with Edward and Harley, while Harley's guards left to report their findings to their commanding officer. The soldier waiting for them at the entryway to the castle nodded toward the airship that was parked outside. "The emissary from Baron is waiting for you, Your Highness. Our messenger is back as well – he's resting at the inn."

"Very good," Edward said, not liking the way his pulse was starting to race. Wouldn't it have been enough to simply give their messenger word of whatever it was Baron needed to say?

As they entered the keep, the chancellor met up with them, all out of breath. "Your Highness! Thank the gods you've come home. An emissary from Baron has arrived!"

"I noticed, Chancellor," Edward sighed. "So where is this emissary?"

"He requested a tour of the castle while he was awaiting your return, my lord," the chancellor replied, and Edward winced.

"A _tour_?"

"Yes, my lord," the chancellor shrugged. "What was I supposed to do, tell him "no"? I had no idea how long you would be gone – since it seems you disobeyed my request to stay near the castle."

Edward crossed his arms over his chest, staring at his feet as they walked to the throne room as a group. _Why now, of all times?_ "Has he been to the crystal chamber?"

The chancellor blinked. "Not yet, my lord. How could he, when you are the only one who can open it?" Edward frowned as he glanced at the gold and ruby ring that rested on his right hand – he had been wearing it ever since the day the new crystal room had been built, now only accessible via a hidden passage that could only be unlocked by pressing the insignia in just the right impression in the wall. It was so well-hidden that even Edward had trouble locating it from time-to-time – he had given up on trying to memorize how many bricks up and from the left of the throne it was. He was pretty sure that Harley was the only one who actually knew, thanks to her near-photographic memory.

Only a few moments after they had entered the throne room, Edward heard voices from outside the open doors. "Right this way, sir. His Majesty has returned." A Damcyan soldier stepped in, and walking behind him was a pale male wearing a blue uniform with a bronze-brushed helmet resting over his head. He removed his helmet, kneeling before Edward silently. It was someone that Edward had never seen before, but that didn't mean anything – most of his dealings with Baron had only ever been between himself, Rosa or Cid.

Edward offered a warm smile. "On behalf of my kingdom, I welcome you to Damcyan."

The emissary rose, cradling his helmet under his arm. "I come here with a message from the kingdom of Baron."

"There is no need for such ceremony, my friend," Edward said gently. "I trust King Cecil is faring well?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And what of Queen Rosa? Ceodore must be a grown man by now, come to think of it."

"I am afraid I did not travel here to chat, Your Highness."

Edward nodded, although the hurt in his eyes was apparent. Harley couldn't help but give the emissary one of her patented death-glares – not that he was paying any attention to her to make note of it. "My apologies. Then let us turn to the matter of King Cecil's message."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the emissary sighed, like he just wanted to get this over with. "His Majesty requests that the matter of the meteor be handled exclusively by Baron."

Edward frowned. "Why is that?"

He shrugged. "I was not provided with any further information."

"...I see," Edward replied, looking away. Harley bit her lip, and the chancellor glared, his arms crossed.

The emissary took no notice of the sudden turn in the mood of the room. "The message is delivered. I shall be on my way." He turned to leave, but just as he crossed the threshold, Edward looked up, running after him.

"Ah, one moment, if you could."

The emissary took a deep breath, turning. "Yes, Your Highness?"

Edward pressed his fingers together. "In circumstances like these, King Cecil would have personally paid a visit...That is the kind of person he is – and _always_ has been."

The emissary stared at Edward for a few moments, his eyes unblinking. "I will be sure to pass that message along to His Highness." He swept into a low bow, and took his leave, taking care to pull the throne room doors shut behind him.

"Your Highness...What is the meaning of this?" the chancellor cried. "Such blatant disrespect…!"

Edward shook his head, although he could hardly believe it himself. "I trust that Cecil has due motivation for this decision."

"But, my lord..."

Edward pressed his lips together. "Perhaps I ought to pay him a visit."

"You...you mean to go see King Cecil personally!?"

 _Something just isn't right…why wouldn't he have just come to tell me this kind of news himself? If I could just look into Cecil's eyes, I would know the truth…I'm sure of it._

Edward nodded. His decision had been made. "…Yes."


	18. Act Eighteen: Harley's Tale

Act Eighteen: Harley's Tale | The Fever Pitch

Edward's declaration had put the chancellor in the throes of a horrific fit. After fifteen minutes of trying to convince Edward not to go to Baron, he finally threw his hands in the air and let out a sigh of resignation that filled the entire throne room. All Harley could do was watch in amazement – she couldn't get a word in even if she wanted to – _and_ she couldn't remember the last time Edward had actually won a fight with the chancellor, frequently as they argued. _Perhaps the world was really going to end, after all…_

"You must bring guards, at the very least!"

Edward shook his head. "No. I do not want to involve the military with such haste. If you are worried about starting something with Baron, that would certainly be a good way to go about it!"

"But, my lord! I cannot in good conscience allow you to travel to Baron completely unescorted! With the meteor, and now this moon…it's practically falling onto one's sword, if you ask me!"

Edward pressed his fingers to his forehead. If he resisted, the chancellor probably would just end up sending soldiers to tail him anyway – and then he would have to pretend to not notice them, and they would have to pretend it wasn't their most ridiculous job yet until they all awkwardly "just happened to meet" at the docks – why bother going through the pretense? "Very well. I will leave the specifics up to you."

The chancellor muttered something incomprehensible, immediately turning to Amy, Toby and Jo, who had been standing silently throughout the entire ordeal, trying not to look at each other for fear of laughing. "Guards...You will serve as His Majesty's escort on the journey to Baron."

"Sir!" they chanted simultaneously. _This was turning out to be a hell of a day._

"Let us depart immediately," Edward said. "We should make as much of our journey in the daylight as we can. It will be a long road without use of the hovercraft to get to the Kaipo Desert." _And if I have to be honest...I might lose my nerve too._

"What happened to the hovercraft?" the chancellor blanched, and Harley cleared her throat.

"Ah, it's…been in need of repair for some time. It's just fallen to the bottom of the list in terms of financial priorities."

"Ridiculous," the chancellor shook his head. "Well, while you're down in Baron, bring that lunatic Cid back here to repair it. It's the least he could since his king is putting us through this mess."

"Very diplomatic, Chancellor," Harley sneered, pushing past him to follow Edward out. "Perhaps it's you we should be worried about starting a war."

"You're blind if you don't think war has already reached our shores, Harley…!" The chancellor called out. But she had let the throne room doors slam behind her, tuning out his warning.

Harley and the royal guard kept a few steps behind Edward as he silently made his way through the great hall toward the courtyards that would lead them outside. Normally he wandered about with a friendly smile on his face and a greeting for every person who passed him by, but something about the look in his eyes that morning made the castle residents do a double-take and resist engaging him. Harley tried to make up for it by offering up a forced smile of her own, but no one was paying much attention to her. She knew the castle residents were probably starting to put two and two together – the return of the moon, the sudden appearance of a Red Wings ship, and Edward's visible uneasiness made for an unsettling pall that had swiftly fallen over the castle.

At the entryway, Edward at last turned to Harley, resting his hand on her shoulder gingerly. "Well, this is where we part ways."

 _Um, what?_ Harley shook her head quickly. "No, my lord. I am going with you." She said it as casually as one would announce that they were running to the market for bread.

Edward laughed softly. Like he had really expected her to react any other way? "I am afraid I cannot permit that."

She waggled her finger. "I am your secretary, my lord. If you are going to have a diplomatic meeting with the king of Baron, it is _my duty_ to be present."

Edward blinked. She had gotten him there. "But..." _But I have the feeling this isn't going to be very diplomatic..._ Is what he wanted to say – but even just the thought made him feel guilty, as if he were already betraying Cecil.

Harley raised her chin. "I am certain I will prove useful, Your Highness." Edward knew that was her polite way of saying _"I will outwit and outsmart any meager comeback you have until you give up, so stop wasting our time and let's get on with it."_

"...Very well," Edward sighed, and Harley smiled sweetly in return.

"I will make sure not to burden you too much on this trip."

He nodded, turning toward the flowerbed that contained the whisperweed and an abundance of other blooms. He pulled out several stems that had just started to blossom, and then moved to another flowerbed, plucking a few more flowers that made for a more eye-catching bouquet. Unraveling one of the leather laces from his vest, he tied it around the flowers and gently tucked them into his belt.

"My lord?" Harley blinked.

"A small gift for Cecil," Edward replied, but the dullness of his eyes didn't match the labored smile on his lips.

* * *

With the hovercraft out of commission, the party had no choice but to cross the underground waterway that stood between Damcyan Castle and Kaipo, where the docks were stationed that would take them to Baron. Long before any of them had even been a thought, the waterway had been a popular trade route and was made relatively safe by the constant coming and going of both soldiers and merchants, which kept the monster populations at bay.

But during Edward's parents' reign, Kaipo had become a stronger market on its own thanks to being brought into the fold of the Damcyan territories, and as a result, many people no longer needed to cross between the two as frequently. The invention of the hovercraft permitted the royal family ease of travel using the shallows of the western seas, which meant soldiers also no longer needed to patrol the waterway as often for monsters. When adding in the rising popularity of using ships for travel, eventually the route fell under disrepair, and only the desperate or unlucky needed to slog their way through to reach the other side of the continent.

Edward and Harley had never set foot in the waterway that was only steps from the castle in which they lived, but luckily their company of guards had spent plenty of time within as part of their training and were able to lead the way.

As they descended deeper into the series of caverns, which would take them underneath a waterfall and eventually deposit them back on the surface, where they would need to cross through yet another route under the mountains that protected Kaipo's northern border, Edward would strum his harp quietly, sometimes humming along and other times letting the notes shine on their own. Harley had heard rumors that Edward knew songs that could have an adverse effect on monsters and fey – but she had never seen it for herself until now. As Amy, Toby and Jo hacked their way through clusters of undead, Harley would notice that every once in a while, a healing light would manifest itself from the sky, disguised in the trailing sunbeams that managed to break through some of the cavern's depths, and burn the flesh of the monsters they encountered. Edward would strum his harp silently, a small smile on his lips as a matching light imbued on the harp strings slowly faded away with the end of a song.

 _He's stronger than he lets on,_ Harley thought to herself. _He stays hidden in the background, so slight of movement that you would forget he was even there, despite the somber melody of his harp that besieges the battlefield. Why does he remain in the shadows when it only encourages the rumors that he lacks courage and conviction? If people understood the power of his music – would they realize that that very power had to come from a soul that was the embodiment of tenacity?_

She realized that despite nearly seventeen years living under the same roof – the longest time she had spent with anyone in her life – she still didn't entirely understand him. _Maybe he doesn't even understand himself…?_

* * *

Hours later, having made it through the first stretch of the waterway, it felt beyond glorious to emerge into the sunlight and early summer warmth. Edward and Harley sat in the grass as Amy, Toby and Jo wandered into the next cavern to get a jump on any monsters that might be waiting for them. Harley wondered if three youngsters like them got bored babysitting herself and Edward – she felt terribly ancient compared to them, even if she was still only in her thirties.

"Did you assist Cecil in battle with your harp as you were doing just now with the guards?" Harley asked, and Edward blinked in surprise.

"Ah, so you noticed?"

She nodded.

"Well…I did my best, at any rate," Edward shrugged, laying back in the grass. "He was a powerful knight in his youth, as you can probably imagine. He didn't much need my assistance for anything. Between him, Rydia and Yang, they had the battlefield covered." He smiled sadly in recollection. "Cecil is a good man – I was happy enough just to be by his side and learn from him, even if it was only for a little bit. He was far more patient with me than most would have been in the circumstances from which we were thrown together."

Harley brought her knees to her chest. She hadn't meant for the topic to go sour – she had just been trying to learn more about him. She didn't know too much about what Edward's life had been like prior to becoming king – his broken engagement with Lady Anna being the major exception. She supposed when she thought about it, she had never offered up that much information about her past, either – but she had just thought it never really mattered. Her own surge in curiosity was befuddling enough – she didn't like the way her stomach was twisting anxiously, and tried to change the subject.

"Well, you know my feelings on the subject of violence. The world would come to no harm if there were more gentle souls like you, Your Highness. Of that I am sure." She felt a seething heat crawl up her skin as the words left her mouth. When she closed her eyes, it felt like everything had suddenly gone into slow motion – she could hear each distinct beat of her heart reverberating in her ears. Ka-thump. Ka-thump. Ka-thump…

Edward looked over at her, suddenly sitting up in alarm. "What's the matter?"

 _Huh!?_ "N-nothing...nothing at all, my lord," Harley stammered, bringing her hands to her cheeks. _My gods, my face is on fire!_

He crawled over to her, sticking his face right in hers, much to her simultaneous delight and discomfort. "Your color does not look so well."

Harley scooted back on her rear, her eyes flashing. "I am just a bit tired...That's all." She spoke the truth – all of a sudden, the fact that she hadn't slept in nearly twenty-four hours was hitting her _hard_. She could easily lose herself in the frenzy of study and research for days at a time if someone would let her – there had been stretches of days in university where her fellow students and ex-fiancé had to leave food outside her door just to make sure she was eating _something_.

Edward widened his eyes. "There's no need to overwork yourself. We'll turn back."

"No!" Harley cried, turning redder. "I just need a moment's rest. That will more than suffice. You're not getting out of taking me to Baron that easily."

He frowned, giving up for now. "Let's make camp here to rest. Is that acceptable?"

"Fine, fine," Harley waved him away, grumbling. "But only for an hour or two. That's all I need." As if to prove her point, she flopped down into the grass and slid her hands under her cheek to use them as a pillow, slamming her eyes shut.

Edward stood up, trying not to laugh. It was fun _and_ rare to rile her up since she was normally as cool as a cucumber – if a stranger didn't know better, Edward would put money on them assuming Harley was the royal based on her everyday demeanor and not himself. He approached the entrance of the next cavern, calling for the guards to come back when they were ready for a break. He heard one of them – Jo, perhaps – grunt an affirmative from deep within the cave. Settling back down next to Harley, Edward turned his back to her and closed his eyes, letting out a low, sad whistle.

 _Cecil…please be willing to hear me out when I get there…maybe you're just trying to be kind by handling the meteor yourself…but I cannot ignore the troubling feeling I have. I know I can be of use to you, somehow…we'll figure it out together, right?_

A few hours later, Harley opened her eyes and was greeted by the mid-afternoon glare of the sun. Her eyelids felt like two sandbags that had been left to absorb a pool of water, and she was freezing cold, despite her billowing black coat and the fact that she had been baking in the sun all afternoon. Her stomach churned angrily from hunger, but just the thought of eating anything made her want to roll over and promptly dry heave.

When her vision finally came into focus, she realized Edward had been staring at her with his eyes half-open. She could feel herself break into a sweat wondering how long he had been watching her and wondering what kind of bizarre noises she was making in her sleep. "Feeling better?"

She groaned, feeling every muscle in her arms twitch in protest as she hauled herself up into a sitting position. _Perhaps I needed more sleep – I'll just have to catch up with my rest on the ship once we've reached the port. If I can't keep up, Edward will surely send me on my way back home._ "...Yes, my lord."

Edward climbed to his feet, extending his hand to hers. She took it gratefully, blanching at how the ground seemed to quake beneath her feet while she tried to steady herself. Edward watched her with caution, hesitant to let go of her hand. "We will arrive in Kaipo shortly. Just hold on a little longer."

 _What's wrong with me?_ Harley looked away, pretending to brush the dust off her clothes. _I haven't done anything different with the exception of investigating the meteor…_ She shivered, pulling her coat around her tighter despite the soaring temperatures. _That substance that was rotting the very earth itself…did I contract something from it? I was careful not to come into direct contact, but…_ She raised her hands, gazing at her gloved fingers and biting her lip. _I can't tell Edward my fears – he'll never forgive himself for letting me go in the first place._

As they made their way through the last half of the waterway, the guards gave their report from their earlier exploration of the caverns while Harley and Edward had slept.

"There's evidence that there's been other people here recently," Toby said. "Old fires, some trash…"

"And signs of a struggle," Jo added, and Edward and Harley looked at each other.

"Meaning what, exactly?" Edward asked warily.

"Could be bandits," Amy frowned. "We found some dark splotches on some of the cavern floors that appeared to be blood. No bodies, or anything like that – but if someone were hurt in here, it would probably be easy enough for a bandit to threaten them to keep quiet. It's their MO to steal your traveling papers so that they know where you live."

"Oh dear," Harley swallowed, the sensation of which felt like she was eating sandpaper that had gotten stuck in her throat. No matter how many canteens of water the guards kept handing back to her, she couldn't wash the gravel-like sensation out of her mouth.

"Well, if they are still here, they won't dare approach us," Toby offered as consolation. "They're the cowardly type that only go after small fry that they think they can intimidate. If they are foolish enough to challenge us, they'll have their arses handed to them."

"Regardless!" Harley frowned. "There's a reason why they are doing this, right? Should we not evaluate the underlying socioeconomic motivations for turning to a life of debauchery?" Toby's face twisted in confusion, and Amy made a "whoosh" noise, flinging her wrist over his head.

"What Harley is saying," Edward smiled, "Is that we should we should treat the underlying condition, not the symptom, and try to understand why they are stealing in the first place."

"Oh, well…" Toby shrugged. "Why is anyone evil? Sometimes it's just a choice, you know. It doesn't have to be more complicated than that."

Harley looked down at the ground, and all Edward could do was nod.

 _Have I met anyone that has ever been truly evil? Golbez and Kain were manipulated by forces beyond their control…had they had the choice, they would have never raided Damcyan and Fabul…I'm quite sure of it._

 _And what of Zemus? His planet had been destroyed, and there was nowhere else for his people to go…surely there was a mote of light still left in his heart before he gave himself to Zeromus? I guess that's something we'll never know…_

"We're making good time," Amy's voice rang out, making both Edward and Harley jump in surprise. "The ship is not even going to be at port by the time we get out of here. I suggest we do a final supply check in Kaipo and get something to eat – we don't really know what conditions are going to be like in Baron."

 _Kaipo…?_ The blood drained from Harley's face, although it was far too dark for anyone to tell. _We're really stopping there…?_

* * *

Harley's heart began to throb harder as the outskirts of Kaipo finally came into view. Pressing her fingers to her lips, she took a ragged, shaking breath – suddenly, her legs had turned to jelly, and she wasn't sure if she could possibly take another step.

The last day she had ever been in the village, it had still been pouring buckets of rain – such a rare weather occurrence that for a while, rumors were circulating the village that the "sorcerer in black" who had attacked the castle and stolen their crystal had also laid a curse upon their land. As impossible as that seemed at the time, even Harley half-believed it in her grief-drowned state. Golbez had been a presence like none anyone in their village had ever experienced – if the world was going to be torn apart by war, there was no doubt he would have been the man capable of doing it.

Since returning to the Damcyan region to accept her role as Edward's secretary, Harley had made sure to never once travel to Kaipo proper. The thought of returning to that one particular place in the world was still too much for her heart to handle – she could bear to be in close proximity to it, bear to speak of it, bear to help build it back up from the safety of the castle – but even after seventeen years, her blood ran cold at the thought of walking through the village gates and not being able to return to her old house or see her parents. Whenever she had traveled on business with Edward or for the castle, she had always gone straight to the docks to get where she needed to be, which were situated far east. If anything had been needed in the oasis before departure, she would send the accompanying page to take care of it.

 _Breathe…breathe!_ She mentally chanted with each soft step of her boots that sunk into the sands. Unbeknownst to her, Edward had been observing her nearly the entire way, his frown deepening as he took in the seemingly familiar symptoms of an anxiety attack wrack her form – an increasingly white pallor, shaking hands, shallow breaths. Some of her hair had sprung free from her bun and was sticking on the back of her neck, matted down with sweat. As she raised her hand for the third time to absentmindedly take a sip of water from a bottle that had been empty since before they left the waterway, Edward finally reached out, gently prying it from her fingers. She didn't even acknowledge his presence – her glassy eyes were locked on the approaching village.

 _Of course…Harley is from Kaipo. I don't think she has returned since the bombing – this was not perhaps the best occasion for a homecoming._ Edward pressed his fingers to his mouth in thought. _Harley…why wouldn't you say something to me?_

When they reached the village gates, Harley paused, her eyes glued to the red cobblestone streets that were streaked with dancing sand granules. The guards walked ahead, trying to scout for the nearest pub and lost in their own conversation. Edward turned, biting his lip. His secretary had become so white that she was transparent – he could see the pale blue veins throbbing in her forehead.

"Harley?" he asked softly.

She uttered a moan, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she fell to the ground in a heap of coats and hair. Her hat fell off her head and rolled away, revealing a silky pool of navy that spilled over her back and face.

"Harley!" Edward gasped, sliding to his knees and pulling her into his lap. Her head lolled backwards unresponsively, her glasses sliding off her face and clattering in the street.

* * *

"Your...Your Highness..."

Harley hacked so fiercely that the entire bed frame shook that housed her diminutive form. She gasped for air, her eyelids clenching tighter as Edward tried to bring a carafe of water to her lips. She sputtered against the liquid, and he watched helplessly as it dribbled down her cracked lips and pooled into the hollows of her collarbone. She had been stripped of her coat and her tunic had been opened as far as the top of chest to maintain her modesty. Despite her pale, nearly-blue complexion, her skin had burned his hands through her clothing when he had nervously assisted with its removal.

"That's desert fever, no doubt about it. It happens to people on long journeys all the time. First they get fatigued, and it hits the second they set foot on sand."

Edward took the sweating carafe away and looked up at the man standing next to him. He had been emerging from a shop when he had heard Edward's outburst, and had told the guards to immediately carry Harley to his home, which was mercifully nearby. He introduced himself as Nick Covington, and in a twist of fate, had even recognized Harley as one of his schoolmates when they were very young. Edward had not bothered introducing himself – he was too rattled by everything that had happened so quickly.

"Desert fever!?" Edward swallowed. "I thought perhaps she was just anxious about the trip…"

"Unfortunately, I've seen it often enough to know she's exhibiting all the symptoms," Nick frowned. His wife, Miaka, who had been hovering in the doorway, nodded sadly in confirmation.

"Then…we must get a Sand Pearl..." Edward trailed off, and Nick brightened.

"Oh, you know about those? I've only heard about 'em from my grandfather's old tales. He used to live in this house before he and my grandmother retired and moved to the Adamant Isles – they've treated people stricken with desert fever before. He told me there's a monster known as an antlion that lives in a cave near Mount Hobs. Supposedly, you can get Sand Pearls when it lays eggs."

"It's true," Edward sighed. "Antlions only lay eggs during a full moon – their behaviors have changed quite a bit since the disappearance of the twin moon all those years ago. It used to be that they laid eggs much more frequently, but not so anymore."

"It was a full moon last night," Miaka said. "So surely that means there should still be some Sand Pearls lying about?"

Edward nodded. "You could be right – there's a good chance that they haven't been all crushed in the frenzy of birth if the eggs haven't hatched yet. I'll leave right now to bring one back. Would you be able to watch her until then?"

Nick smiled gently. "Of course! I could never turn away an old friend like Harley – you simply can't imagine my shock when I saw it was her passed out in the street. But you'd better give up on the idea of leaving today – especially if you are crossing through the underground waterway – the rumor is that thieves have been attacking people there late into the night. Get some rest first. We can't have you getting sick too – you'll need to make your way north with full strength."

"That's true..." Edward frowned. "We'll get a room at the inn so that we're not in your hair. Thank you for watching over Harley. I'll stop by first thing tomorrow morning before I leave."

Edward brushed past Miaka wordlessly, slumping down the stairs. Outside the house, Amy, Toby and Jo were waiting, their desire to drink the rest of the night away now stronger than ever. Edward gazed up at them, sighing and feeling as if he had suddenly aged a hundred years.

"Let us get a room at the inn for the time being. Harley…she…"

* * *

Later that night, long after the guards had surrendered themselves to a dreamless, alcohol-fueled slumber, Edward slipped out of bed, careful not to draw attention to himself. Glancing back only once to make sure the flowers he had brought along for Cecil were still sitting safe in the vase the innkeeper had been kind enough to lend them, Edward pushed the door to their room open gingerly, grateful to see that most of the candles in the connecting hall had been blown out and let in no light.

Once he was outside, he found, as expected, that the streets were empty. Kaipo was not the kind of village that had revelry long into the night – most of the residents were shopkeepers that had to rise early in the morning to attend to the surge of tourism that Kaipo had been blessed with since the opening of their port. Once the sun set and the deserts turned into a frigid wasteland, most folks were happy to retreat in their cozy homes for the night. But for Edward, this had used to be the most magical hour of his day – it was when he would sneak into town and meet with Anna, who had been forbidden by her father to court him.

Edward didn't have to think about where he was going – muscle memory lightened the burden of needing to focus or process his surroundings. He drifted northward, toward the largest of the oasis springs in the village, where a garden bursting with desert blooms was shimmering in the moonlight. Nestled among the plant life were two opal-flecked gravestones, well-cared for and meticulously manicured.

Clearing his throat, Edward reached into his vest. If his dream from the night the meteor had fallen had been any indication, she would come – it was only a matter of time, now. Retrieving his harp, Edward absentmindedly brushed his fingers over a couple of strings, the disjointed chords rending through the otherwise silent evening.

"Anna...Tellah...it's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

His eyes fell over the graves of his fiancée and his father-in-law to be, and he began to play Anna's favorite song in his repertoire. The mournful, delicate notes that drifted into the crisp air were as familiar as being wrapped in a mother's arms – it was a song Edward had played every day since Anna had died. It had been his one unwavering hope that she could still hear his music, even if she was now one with the planet. Even as he had been drifting in the sea after Leviathan had attacked his and Cecil's ship, waiting to die, her song had played continuously in his mind – he often wondered if his heart had acted as a sonar so that he could still transmit the music to Anna while half-drowned.

A faint shadow fell over Edward, and he lifted his eyes toward the oasis with anticipation. Sure enough, she was before him once more, just like she had appeared in his dream – Anna's ethereal skin glowing in the moonlight, her golden gown billowing in gossamer waves from a breeze that Edward could neither feel nor see.

"Anna..."

She gazed down at him, once more folding her hands together, as if to beg, and blinking the diamond-like tears from her eyes.

"Anna...why must you be so sad?" Edward lowered his harp, reaching out for her across the lake. "Does my music not reach you anymore…? You can't possibly think I've forgotten about you, right? It had been so long since I saw you in my dreams…"

Anna closed her eyes, and as she reached out to take Edward's hand, her body faded away. Feeling just the slightest brush of warmth on his fingers, Edward pulled his hand back, pressing it to his mouth and willing his tears to cease before they could spill over his cheeks.

"Anna…!? What are you trying to tell me, Anna?"

But minutes passed, and Anna did not reappear to answer his question. Clutching his harp, Edward turned to make his way back to the inn, when he heard a booming voice from behind that transformed into a bark of a laugh.

"Can't even tell that, you spoony bard?"

Edward whirled around, his eyes wide. Now standing before him in the oasis was Tellah the Sage himself – Anna's windbag of a father who had fallen in a battle with Golbez during the war. Wild white hair protruded from all directions on his head, his beard the only tamed mass of hair, which covered half his face and most of his chest. He reached up, adjusting his purple-lensed, circular spectacles as his garish trademark pink and purple coat fluttered in the wind.

"Tellah!" Edward cried. It was a testament to the precarious condition of Edward and Tellah's relationship that even when long-dead, Tellah's voice could make Edward shake in his boots.

Tellah shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Guess I have to spell it out, like always. Anna wants you to _live_ , Edward."

"Live? What do you mean? I'm as alive as I've ever been." Edward held out his arms as if to demonstrate. Tellah threw his head back and laughed so riotously that Edward wondered if the entire village would awaken – he couldn't help but nervously glance behind his shoulder. He had no idea if anyone else in the village could see ghosts like him, but he wasn't exactly keen for tonight to be the time he found out.

Tellah jabbed a transparent finger toward Edward's chest. "Take a good, hard look at yourself and then tell me whether that's _really_ true."

"What…?" Edward shook his head. "Tellah, with all due respect, you make no sense."

"You know what to do," Tellah jabbed once more for good measure, but of course his hand merely passed through Edward's chest. Edward blinked confusedly as Tellah disappeared, a trail of blistering laughter lingering in the air.

"Tellah...!" Edward brought his hands to his chest, staring down at himself wondrously. "What could I be…missing…?"

* * *

The next morning, before dawn had even broken, Edward awoke and rushed to the house Harley was staying in without waiting for his guards to stir. It had been another restless night – his little walk to the northern oasis had not done much except give him even more to dwell and fret upon.

 _Anna wants me to live…what in the world could that possibly mean? What would you call what I've been doing since that dreadful day she was taken away?_

When he was led up to Harley's temporary bedroom, Edward found her tossing and turning in a feverish daze, her cheeks stained scarlet with effort and her feet violently kicking underneath the covers.

"Nnngh...Mmmm..." she groaned, and Miaka pushed past Edward as she ran up the stairs with a fresh compress, pressing it to Harley's forehead and stroking her hair back.

"There, there, dear…it's OK…" She looked up at Edward and shook her head. "One minute she's burning hot, and the next freezing cold…her body is all in a flux. I could hear her tossing and turning all night."

Edward felt the blood drain from his face as he watched Harley writhe in agony, and he realized after a few moments that Nick, who had been sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, was trying to talk to him. "…The fever's getting worse. We need that Sand Pearl as soon as possible!"

Edward bit his lip. He recalled the reflection of the moon in the oasis, and how it had already begun to wane from its fullest light of the night prior. Every precious second that passed meant the possibility of retrieving an intact Sand Pearl got lesser and lesser, along with Harley's recovery.

Edward pushed his fingers through his hair, clenching his jaw. "I will get it no matter what it takes! Keep an eye on her for me, please – I'll be back as soon as I can!"

Harley moaned at the sound of Edward's distraught voice. "High...ness...I'm sorry...This...is all my fault..."

"Harley – you're awake?" Edward knelt on the other side of the bed, grasping her hand in his. It was clammy and cold – _and when had her hands gotten so tiny?_ He could have swallowed it whole within his own. "Don't be ridiculous. Just stay in bed for me. I'll bring back the medicine you need."

She turned to face him, her eyes barely managing to open in watery, bloodshot slits. "This wouldn't have happened...if I hadn't forced you to take me..."

All Edward could bring himself to do was squeeze her hand. Nick crossed his arms, shaking his head.

"Enough talking, Harley. You need to conserve your strength."

Harley turned away dejectedly, and Edward felt her hand go limp. "Please... Be careful..."

"Harley!" Edward whimpered, releasing her hand and standing back up. _The antlion's den is east of Damcyan Castle. If I hurry, I can make it back yet before nightfall._ He turned to leave, and was surprised to see Amy, Toby and Jo standing in the doorway of the bedroom. They didn't look too amused at having been left behind at the inn.

"You are traveling to the antlion's den, yes?" Toby asked.

Edward nodded, feeling like a child who had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "...Yes."

"Let us accompany you, Your Highness!" Jo said. "We're ready to go right now."

Edward looked away. "...No. I need you to stay here with Harley."

Amy blinked. "But, my lord...the chancellor said…"

Edward took a deep breath, and offered a smile. "Please. I'll be all right. If something happens with Harley while I'm gone…I want people she knows and trusts to be by her side. I know the chancellor has my best interests at heart, but…right now, Harley is the most important – this moon or this world be damned. Understood?"

The three guards looked at each other, and gave a defeated shrug. Who were they to defy the king's orders? "...Yes, Your Highness!"

They parted from the entryway to the bedroom, and Edward passed through the threshold, glancing back at Harley one last time before disappearing down the stairs. He felt an agonizing twist in his gut as he stepped back out into the village streets.

 _This is my own problem...one that I'll fix myself. I can't depend on Cecil, or Harley, or anyone else…! I couldn't save you, Anna…and for that, I will always be aggrieved…but if the gods are giving me a second chance with Harley – then this time, I simply cannot fail._

As Edward stared dispiritedly down the streets, he realized he had no idea how he should go about making his way back up north. He had been barely paying any mind to where they were going on the way down – his attentions had been focused on either on his harp to help keep the undead at bay, or, he realized with a burn of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks, Harley. _She was acting weird the entire trip – why didn't I take her back home before things got worse?_ _Was my need to confront Cecil really more important than her well-being?_

He knew how to get back to the waterway, but actually getting through it was going to be another matter altogether – could his music alone really fend off all of the beasts that had fallen so easily to his guards' blades?

He was about to turn around to go back inside the house to beg the guards' forgiveness for his prideful foolishness, when he heard a commotion erupting from one of the market stalls a few yards away. Turning on his heel, he spotted two children, a young boy and girl who looked to be around the same age – perhaps twelve or thirteen years old – arguing with an older woman who was running the stall. With an unexpected pang, Edward realized the children had the same exact coloring as Anna – rich brown hair that was highlighted red from hours in the Kaipo sun, yet their skin was inexplicably fair. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that they were distant relations – Kaipo was a small village, after all, and Anna had never talked much about her mother's family – she had died when Anna was young, long before Edward had come to know her – but regardless of their identities, Edward couldn't help but find himself drawn to them.

 _If Anna had lived…the future heir to Damcyan would have surely been their age now…maybe we would have even had two or three children…Anna had wanted a big family – she hated being an only child growing up…and so had I…_

"This isn't fair! Yesterday the price was only one hundred gil! Why is it higher now?" The young girl was near tears.

"Yeah, why are you trying to rip us off?" the boy demanded.

"I can't help it if parts are suddenly getting harder to come by," the woman running the stall frowned. "A lot less vendors are going to come to Kaipo now that the moon is acting up again and there's the possibility of war. I have to eat too, you know."

"May I ask what the concern is?" Edward interjected, approaching the stall. All three strangers turned to stare at him – and he could tell by the looks on their faces that none of them realized who he was. In his opinion, that was all for the better – he hadn't looked in a mirror since he had left the castle to investigate the meteor site, so he was sure he was unrecognizable at this point. He had always found it simpler to move about in the public as a bard rather than a royal – it was so much easier to manage peoples' expectations that way.

"We needed just one more part for our bike, and we finally got the money last night," the boy frowned. "And we come here this morning to buy it, and find that the price has doubled!"

"It's not fair!" the girl pouted. "Now it's going to take us another three months just to make up the difference…"

Edward raised his eyebrows. "Well, unfortunately, this woman is not wrong. The return of the twin moon is certainly alarming to many people – you two seem young enough to have not lived through the previous war – but I can assure you it was a frightening time for all of us. When people are scared, there are consequences that ripple throughout the land – like a favorite shop not getting supplies anymore, because people stop traveling to other towns."

"I'm not worried about some stupid moon," the girl frowned. "King Edward will protect us if anything bad happens."

"Yeah, my cousin lives in Damcyan Castle, and he says it's the best place in the world," the boy shrugged. "King Edward would let us all live there if we needed to."

Edward brought his hand to his mouth, trying to hide his smile. "True enough, but we still must be kind and understanding to our neighbors, especially during stressful times like these. Is your bike broken?"

"We're building one," the girl smiled, brightening slightly just at Edward taking an interest. "And not just _any_ bike – a hoverbike that can ride over shallows in the sea or the desert stands."

"We've studied the technology used in hovercrafts, and think we're close to recreating it in a less expensive model," the boy nodded proudly. "If we could just get this last part, we could finally take it for a test ride."

"It will help so many people if we can get it just right," the girl frowned. "We _were_ so close…" She stared at her sandaled feet despondently.

 _Two bright young children, giving Baron's company of engineers a run for their money…beautiful dreams are coming out of our kingdom, after all._ Edward smiled wider, tapping his chin. _Perhaps this was fated._ "I have a proposal for you. If I give you the rest of the money for the part, would you be able to get the bike up and running yet this morning and give me a ride?"

"What!?" the boy gasped. "It would take no time at all to finish the bike…where do you need to go?"

"Just to Damcyan. Would it get us that far?"

"It should, if everything works the way we think it will," the girl blinked. "Are you sure about this?"

"Time is of the essence – and you would get me to where I need to be far faster than if I had to walk," Edward reached into his pockets, pulling out a small satchel that he knew contained a well over one hundred gil and handing it to the stall owner. "With their money, this should be more than enough, I presume?"

"Y-Yes…it's plenty," the woman shook her head in disbelief, reaching under a shelf out of their sight and pulling out a small metal cylinder that appeared to be bolted shut in the center seam. Handing it over to the boy, she tucked the money in her apron pocket. "This is it – a dynamo that has been infused with cherub down. My _last_ one."

"I can't believe it!" the girl cried, jumping up and down. "Thank you so much, er…" She scratched her head. "…I didn't catch your name, sir."

"Just call me Chris," Edward offered up his rarely-used middle name. "Should we meet at the village gates when you are ready?"

They children nodded eagerly. "Yes, Chris! We'll be around in a few minutes – wish us luck!"

"Best of it," Edward smiled, and watched as they ran toward the northwestern side of the village. The stall keeper watched him with her eyebrow arched.

"You've really made their day – but it sounds like you have somewhere important to be. Are you sure you want to ride on that deathtrap of theirs?" Edward nodded, his smile not reaching his eyes.

"I just woke up with a feeling that today, I needed to take a leap of faith…"

* * *

"You doing all right back there, Chris?!"

"Just fine!"

"Whoo-hooo…I can't believe we're sailing over the ocean!" The girl, whom Edward had learned was named Mariah, grinned back at him from the driver's seat, her oversized goggles slipping down her face. Her brother, named Reed, was sandwiched between her and Edward, his arms encircled around her waist.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" Reed laughed. "It looks like we're almost there – I can see Damcyan Castle!"

Edward lifted his head, which he had been ducking to avoid the sea spray stinging his eyes, and saw that Reed was right – the tallest towers of the castle were cresting over the horizon in greeting. They had made wonderful time – as promised, it hadn't taken long for Mariah and Reed to install the part – Edward guessed that it had taken them no more than fifteen minutes since their parting to roar up to the village gates on the hoverbike. Edward could immediately tell why they had given it that name – it did greatly resemble the royal hovercraft at its base, where thick, orange, rubber tarps were crudely tucked into a soldered steel frame. But instead of having two rows of seating, it was elongated like the shape of a bike and had both a fan and a propeller stacked vertically and exposed at the rear. With two of the passengers being so small, it was comfortable enough to seat three – but Edward had a hard time imagining more than two full-grown men being able to fit. As they bounced over the shoals, Reed had explained that in order to gain the speed they wanted and keep the costs to build the bike manageable, they needed to lighten the frame as much as they could – and that meant sacrificing potential space for more passengers.

Thoroughly impressed with what he had been shown so far, Edward was daydreaming about how to best fund a project to develop more hoverbikes when there came a loud sputter, and violent dip that sent him careening into Reed. Luckily, they had just crossed from the shore to the desert, but a tumble into the sands at this speed wouldn't have been much more ideal than falling in the ocean.

"Ah!" Mariah cried. "I smell smoke!"

Edward glanced behind him, and saw that a thin trail of smoke was indeed rising from their rear – he couldn't tell from where exactly it was coming from, but he knew from the overview of the bike Mariah and Reed had given him that the engine was positioned somewhere back there.

"Maybe we're generating too much power for one dynamo to handle?" Reed shrugged. "We'd better park and check things out."

But before Mariah could pull over, the hoverbike made the decision for her. With a final, obnoxious popping noise, their vehicle came to a halt, blowing sand asunder as it slid to the ground and sank under their weight.

"Shoot!" Mariah pouted, climbing off the bike and immediately running to the rear. "Something back here is definitely cooked – everything is covered in soot!"

Edward climbed off the bike, attempting to gain his bearings while the children fussed over their bad luck. They weren't too far from Damcyan Castle – and that meant the antlion cave was close by as well. If he continued in the same direction he had taken to get to the meteor, and turned south instead of north – he would run right into it. Reed had joined Mariah, and they were both crouched at the rear of the bike, twin looks of dismay on their faces.

"It will be OK," Edward offered, and they glanced up at him. "You should make your way to the castle – there are probably some people there that can help you get the bike up and running again."

"But what about you?" Reed asked. "You weren't heading for the castle yourself?"

"No – I still have a little further to go," Edward smiled. "But I assure you, you've gotten me here far ahead of schedule – I can take it from here. You run to the castle, where it's safe. I'm sure we will meet again soon."

"Jeeze…" Mariah flushed. "You've done so much for us. Thanks again…" She jumped to her feet, throwing her arms around Edward's waist. He hugged her back, patting her hair.

"There, there…it's you I should thank. When things have settled down, I'd like to take another ride and talk more about your bike, if that's OK with you guys."

"Of course!" Reed blinked. "You're like…our number one fan, Chris!" That made Edward chuckle despite the urgency of his dilemma with Harley. He watched as Mariah and Reed started making their way to the castle, catching them glance back worriedly at their abandoned bike every few steps. When they were close enough to the entryway that he felt comfortable leaving them on their own, he turned in the opposite direction, lifting his gaze to the horizon. The sun had begun to climb yet higher behind Mount Hobs, and Edward reckoned it was close to mid-morning now.

 _Hold on, Harley…just a little longer…_

His heart racing, Edward broke into a run across the desert. Ignoring the sharp cramps that drilled into his sides, he tried to mentally map out the best route to take once he reached the antlion cave to find the area the beasts were known to nest. The last time he had been in there was seventeen years ago with Cecil, and he realized that like most of his memory from that chaotic time, it was dulled and washed away by his spell in the ocean from when they were all shipwrecked.

 _But I wasn't really functioning even before the accident, was I?_ He thought to himself. _After Anna died…all I wanted to do was be with her again. Cecil, Rydia and Yang…they showed me what it meant to still want to fight for our world when we were together, but…can I really say I felt the same as them? I never had their strength…_

Edward gasped for air, clutching his side to soothe the stabbing in his ribs from running so furiously. He had reached the antlion den, his eyes darting to adjust to the darkness as beads of sweat traveled down his temple and splashed onto his shoulder plates. Even from where he was standing in the mouth of the cavern, he could hear the soft growls of the antlions emanating from within – _something_ was making them restless – the return of the twin moon, perhaps? Steeling himself, he pulled out his harp, praying that one of his songs could soothe the beasts if something went awry, and crept inside.

 _Anna, even after the war, I still longed to be by your side – but I was too much of a coward to do anything about it…To have to come home to where we had spent our last moments together, knowing that what had been started would never be complete? It was torturous. Cecil and Rydia fought on the moon so that I could live, yet I could still barely bring myself to greet each day. And as soon as I set foot in the rubble that was our castle after arriving home, the rebuilding of Damcyan seemed far too great a feat to end in anything but failure…_

 _It wasn't until I got Harley's letter that I realized there had been so many that suffered the same as me, or even worse – and they were still trying to find the good in this world – people like her who weren't ready to give up, even when everything had been stolen away. Harley saw something inside of me that even I could not see…why do you suppose that was, Anna?_

* * *

The afternoon Edward had received Harley's letter had been a rainy, dreary one. Castle Damcyan had not yet even had a roof that had been properly repaired, so he and the few villagers who had taken up residence in the remains of the castle while they made their plans to rebuild had to spend days of inclement weather holed up in the dungeon. It was underground, and the only part of the castle after Baron's bombing that provided any kind of suitable shelter.

He remembered the sound of footsteps climbing down the dungeon steps, and remembered the flutter of hope in his chest, wondering if it was another volunteer arriving from Kaipo. The rebuilding effort had been going painfully slowly, almost to the point where he was beginning to flirt with the idea of giving up. To his surprise, it was two men that had emerged before him – one a messenger that he did recognize from Kaipo, and the other a member of the Red Wings, carrying a note from Cecil.

He had opened Harley's letter first – squinting in the fading light of the dungeon's long-neglected torches, he was not quite sure at which point in the letter his heart had ceased to beat, but after he had finished reading it, he could no longer hear his pulse pounding in his ears.

 _To His Royal Highness, the Future King Edward, Seventh of his Line,_

 _I am writing in response to your query for an individual to assist you in the rebuilding of Damcyan._

 _We have never met, but I know too well of the trials Damcyan has endured from the senseless war that ravaged our planet. From my current post in Troia, I have witnessed the suffering of many, and have been a victim of the darkness myself. I recently lost my parents to inexplicable violence for no reason other than them having the audacity to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The day I had to say good-bye to them forever, I felt no blessing from the crystals, my last trace of light extinguished – I became fearful that I would become a soulless shell doomed to wander the earth for the rest of my days, as limited as I felt they were. I thought that surely if the war had taken my parents, that my time was not far behind – after all, what could I have been possibly left on this planet to do if people far better and stronger than myself had already been taken to their final reward?_

 _I had not realized until being made aware of your inquiry that perhaps it was only through bringing hope to others that I could in turn find it for myself._

 _I long for purpose, to feel the crystals' light fill me once more – but I fear it is not something I can find in Troia, where I have been drifting from day to day without consequence. Perhaps the reason for this is because I do not belong here, at least not right now – perhaps I need to be somewhere that I can be steeped in the optimism and faith of hearts stronger than mine. I believe that for you to return home to Damcyan after everything that has happened and to raise aloft a dream from the blood and ashes of your brethren is the bravest act a man – king or otherwise – can ever take. I feel there is much I could learn from a post as unique as this one, but in turn, I would need to dedicate my heart and soul to the effort – I want to craft my own vision of hope for the future with these two hands, should one feel I am worthy of the task. I've realized I can't sit around and wait for someone to build the future for me, even after having mine razed to dust._

 _It is my firmest belief that restoring or enhancing a nation's military or their magical might will not bring peace and prosperity for all – it is only when a nation's heart is restored – the heart that is comprised of her people and her people's dreams – that the darkness will at last be overtaken by light. I can sense somehow, even hundreds of miles away, that you believe this as well – that you have a beautiful dream for the future Damcyan…_

 _Most Sincerely,_

 _Harley_

* * *

Edward leaned against the entryway to the spacious, sun-dappled cavern before him, panting for breath. After luring an irritated bale of Fell Turtles to sleep, he was ambushed by a pack of Yellow Jellies and had been forced to flee yet deeper into the cavern. Had Rydia been by his side like the last time he had been hunting for a Sand Pearl, she could have zapped the creatures with a simple Thunder spell and saved the day. For magic-challenged Edward, it was a safer prospect to just run for his life – something he was grateful none of his comrades had witnessed, as much as he had wished he wasn't alone right now.

He pressed harder against the inside wall of the new cavern he had entered, trying to temper his wheezing as he heard the Yellow Jellies slither by in pursuit, none of them pausing to investigate what had become his hiding place. He dared to glance over his shoulder, and saw nothing but a wet, sticky trail of their mucous on the cave floor indicating that they had finally moved on. He waited for a few more moments before cautiously pushing himself off the wall and turning to take in the new area he had stumbled upon.

Millennia of erosion and desert earthquakes had caused several deep cracks to form in the chamber's ceiling, from which sparkling beams of sunlight shone. Golden sand from the Damcyan desert occasionally gushed through the cracks, pooling on the ground to make elegantly rippled hills that were scattered about at random.

The growing he had heard upon reaching the cave was much louder now, accompanied by a frenzied clicking that Edward recognized as antlion fangs. To his surprise, one of the hills of sand shifted, and a baby antlion emerged, its exposed pincers shiny with saliva as its big white eyes bulged curiously. Scuttling forward on its four fossorial legs, muscles twitching, it bounded up to Edward, who could not help but break into a smile.

"Hello, little one," Edward cooed, kneeling down and extending his hand slowly. The antlion clicked its pincers in greeting, butting its flat head that had not yet sprouted antennae against Edward's palm. Edward laughed, gently scratching its scaly, sand-coated flesh. "If only Cecil and Rydia could see how sweet you really are. The last time we were here, one of your ancestors was quite naughty, and I don't think it gave them a very high opinion of antlions."

The antlion sat quietly and let itself get spoiled by Edward's attention. Edward's eyes lifted toward the pile of sand it had emerged from. If its egg had been laid there, did that mean there was a Sand Pearl nearby? Yet deeper in the cavern, ensconced in shadows, there appeared to be a deep pool of sand that had resulted from a particularly rough earthquake – maybe even the one recently caused by the meteor. Several pairs of pincers were thrust out of the sand, clicking in the air warningly – the sight gave Edward a rush of unnerving déjà vu from when Cecil had saved him from being disemboweled by the antlion that had aggressively attacked them for seemingly no reason.

"Perhaps I'll check where you came from first," Edward said softly, standing up. The antlion huffed and scuttled toward the nest in the rear, which Edward hoped meant that it was just ready to take a nap and not call for reinforcements. Although the baby had been friendly, he still feared that the moon was already having some strange influence on the adults – it wasn't like an antlion to be so active after laying its eggs, and it was even stranger that some had already started to hatch.

He quietly stepped over to the sunbeam and the accompanying pile of sand, keeping his eyes on the nest the entire time. The baby antlion began to burrow into the sand, minding the pincers of its mother. Kneeling down, Edward gently shifted his hands through the velvety sand, his fingers brushing over the razor-sharp edges of broken egg shells, ignoring the sting as they sliced open his skin. On the surface, something passed over the crack in the ceiling – Edward did not know if it was man, monster or just a cloud – but the brief shadow that draped over his form as he dug sent a chill down his spine. He was transported back to seventeen years prior – kneeling over the corpse of the antlion Cecil had slain, frantically digging in the sand to find the precious Sand Pearl that would save another dying girl's life. Cecil was leaning over him anxiously, his shadow encompassing the antlion nest; the juxtaposition of his demonic black armor and his crystal blue eyes – creased with ever-growing panic – filling Edward with the same growing dread he always got when he was fearful that he was going to let someone down.

In the destroyed Damcyan Castle, after Tellah had stormed off and Edward had been left to sob over Anna's broken body, Cecil's request of him and delayed introduction had been blunt.

 _"My name is Cecil. A friend of mine has taken ill with desert fever in Kaipo, and needs a Sand Pearl if she is to live. And for that, I've need of your aid."_

Right away, just from the tone of Cecil's voice – as cold and aloof as it had been – Edward knew that whoever this person was had been more than a friend. Momentarily, Edward felt sorry for someone else besides himself – could he ever forgive his own cowardice if he couldn't stop Cecil from suffering the same pain as he?

* * *

The second letter Edward had received from the Red Wing messenger was a simple invitation scrawled in elegant calligraphy on a smooth sheet of ivory parchment. It was confirmation of two things that Edward had always suspected would come to be: Cecil was to be crowned the new king of Baron, and during the coronation, there would also be a celebration of his marriage to Rosa Joanna Farrell – his "friend" whose life they had saved.

Edward had been simultaneously thrilled for his new friends, and heartbroken for himself – a wedding and a coronation were just two of the many things he would now never get to experience with Anna – each time he made a realization like that, the dark urge to bring an end to it all would awaken anew. What, what, _what_ could possibly be the point of surviving the war if every time something joyous happened, he couldn't lift the veil of despair that was strangling him? And could he really leave Damcyan even for one day, knowing the terrible shape it was in?

He had nearly decided on the spot to just tell the messenger thank you, but that he wasn't able to attend – but Harley's letter caught his eye once more, and he felt something inside his heart shift.

 _No, no…he could not let the darkness win. Perhaps there was another way…_

* * *

Edward's fingers brushed over something smooth and warm, like the globe of a newly-lit lantern. Lifting his hand from the sand, he saw a shining orb of milky, translucent membrane rolling in his palm, still perfectly unmarred.

 _A Sand Pearl!_ Edward rose quickly, holding the medicine to his chest and closing his eyes in relief. _Perfect! Now back to Harley at once!_ He took care once more in stepping away from the antlion nest, not wanting to be perceived as a threat. His pulse quickened as he saw a pair of pincers inching higher out of the sand pit, granules spilling inward as an adult antlion started to claw her way out. Not wanting to risk an encounter, Edward turned to flee with his heart in his throat, never stopping once his entire journey back through the cavern.

Once he was safely outside, he let himself collapse in exhaustion, reaching blindly at his side to feel for the few medicines he had strapped to his waist. He pulled out a potion, draining it in one gulp and giving it a few shakes so that any remaining droplets of liquid splashed into the desert sands, where they instantly evaporated. Gently pressing the Sand Pearl into the top of the glass, he sealed it once more with the potion bottle's cork and attached it back to his hip.

 _There…it should be safe for now._ He started the trek back toward the castle, wondering if his luck would continue and the hoverbike would be operational – but it was still in a heap on the ground, and its owners were nowhere in sight.

 _I can't wait for the repairs to be made,_ Edward frowned. _And if the bike becomes unstable again…no, I can't risk those children getting hurt on my account. I'll have to make my way back to Kaipo using the waterway…_

Turning south instead, Edward made his way back to the waterway entrance, drawing his cape tighter over his shoulders as mist from the thundering waterfall in the distance danced in the air. He could recall that the first few chambers of the waterway were fairly straight-forward – he first needed to reach the underground lake, pass beneath the waterfall, and then start climbing to make his way back to the surface.

 _Just take it one step at a time, Edward,_ he silently coached himself. _Harley is counting on you._

As he began to cross the first drawbridge that would take him to the path that wound below the waterfall, he heard the sound of rocks scraping and a snatch of laughter. Before his eyes could fully focus in the darkness, a figure arose before him, swathed in dingy gray cloaks with a slash of a sneer stretched across his face. In the fast-failing light that trailed in from the entryway, Edward could see the gleam of a dagger in the stranger's hand.

 _A bandit…!_ Edward took a step backward, and felt a sharp twinge in his back. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that yet another stranger, dressed identically but a few inches taller, had silently slithered up from behind, blocking his exit. He had a knife raised to his lower back, and Edward had brushed against it. As he twisted his body away with a grimace, the knife snagged his cloak, slicing open a jagged tear.

 _How long have they been waiting here? Were they here when we came through earlier with the guards?_

"My, my, my. This is a rare visitor, isn't it?" The bandit in front of him smirked.

"Who would've expected a rich nobleman coming through here?" The one behind him let out a low laugh, stepping closer. Edward jumped away to avoid his outstretched knife, and the other bandit raised his dagger, flashing it in Edward's eyes. He raised his arm to his face, clenching his jaw.

"Sorry, gentlemen, but I don't have anything you'd be interested in."

'You liar! What about that shiny thing right there?" The first bandit nodded toward Edward's waist, using his dagger as a pointer. Glancing down, Edward thought he was first referring to his harp, but it was completely concealed by his cape. The bandit behind him snorted.

"Hey, yeah! That must be worth a mound of gold in the marketplace!"

Confused, Edward patted his hips, but then the realization dawned upon him. The Sand Pearl was glimmering enigmatically in the old potion bottle, as polished and alluring as any crown jewel. Shaking his head, Edward protectively placed his hand over the bottle. "Wait. This is desert fever medicine! It would serve you no purpose!"

"Ah! So it is something valuable!" The bandit in front of him came ever closer, offering a condescending grin. "Valuable enough to give up your life for it?"

Edward looked down at his feet, glowering. He knew they were being facetious and didn't care about his answer, but the response had immediately bubbled up inside him, filling his lungs with a sweltering rage that threatened to spill from his lips.

 _Of course Harley is worth my life, you miscreants…but for the time being, I have to survive to be of any use to her – unfortunately for you!_

Edward could hear them creeping closer – any second now, they would be able to pin him and snatch the Sand Pearl away with ease. Taking a deep, shaking breath, Edward flexed his fingers and dove straight for the bandit in front of him, preparing to throw him down in a tackle. If he could just knock him out of the way, he could flee before the other bandit caught up with him and try to lose them in the waterfall. "Ahhhh!"

"What the hell!?" The bandit cried, thrown off-guard by the sight of Edward seemingly running straight for his dagger. As he stumbled out of the way in shock, Edward slipped in a congealed pool of slime and mist on the bridge, his eyes widening as he felt his feet fly out from underneath him. Tumbling backwards with arms outstretched, he plummeted from the bridge and fell into the distant rushes of water below with a splash, the violent current swallowing his mop of blonde hair and dragging him out of sight into the churning undertow seconds later.


	19. Act Nineteen: The King's Tale

Act Nineteen: The King's Tale | The Estranged

The second bandit peered over the bridge, hands on his hips as he spat in disgust. "Oh, great. We could have eaten like kings tonight if we got everything he had on him."

The first bandit held up his hands defensively, shaking his head.

"I-I didn't do anything! He just jumped right in! You saw it…!"

* * *

"Oof..."

Edward moaned and lifted his water-logged head, coughing up what felt like gallons of water before collapsing back down on the slippery, rocky cavern floor to gasp for air. Something warm was trickling from his nose – when it reached his lips, he realized it had the same brackish taste of blood, and swiped his wrist across his mouth to smear it away.

 _Where am I?_

He summoned the strength to open his eyes, and was greeted by a miraculous spill of sunlight only yards away. Rather than the roar of the waterfall that had been pounding his ear drums before he lost consciousness, he could now only hear the gentle lapping of water, and the distant echo of creaking wood. Slowly, meticulously, he pulled himself up to his hands and knees, coughing yet again and feeling his stomach roll threateningly. He turned his head to the side just in time to vomit into a puddle of water that had been steadily filling from the dripping cavern ceiling, narrowly avoiding making himself even more of a mess. He gasped in relief as soon as the last of the sickness left his body, clutching his concave abdomen.

 _Get up…Harley's waiting…_

When the clenching pain in his stomach had passed, he next climbed to his feet, his hands immediately flying to his hips and feeling for the potion bottle that contained the Sand Pearl. Marvelously, it remained unscathed with only an inch or so of water having made its way inside. The rest of the bottles on his belt had shattered and disappeared – and he realized with a pang of despondency that his harp was gone as well.

 _No matter…what's most important is still here…_ As Edward had drifted between consciousness and oblivion, his mind awash with visions that he couldn't tell were memories, delusions, or a bizarre mixture of both – he had sworn that he could feel warm and familiar arms wrapped around his waist as he was tossed about, and a quiet, soothing voice whispering in his ear above the water's roar that everything would be OK. Had that same phantasm protected the Sand Pearl?

 _Anna…were you trying to help me one last time…?_

The low footbridge that he spotted to his right seemed terribly familiar. He scrambled up the shoreline, heaving himself up onto the bridge with much effort, being that his clothes felt as if they weighed several tons. He gazed out toward the sunlight that was teasingly dancing around the outline of the chamber's exit, his heart swelling with happiness.

 _The waterfall must've sent me all the way through the caverns – and the exit's straight ahead. Please hang on, Harley!_

Making his way west back to Kaipo, Edward made note of the twin moons that had made an early appearance in the daytime sky even as the sun lingered in the western horizon. He could swear that the new arrival satellite was yet bigger than when they had left Damcyan, and Edward feared that he had either been knocked out for days, or that it had taken little time for the moon to grow in size exponentially. Neither situation was very good, and spurred Edward to run faster, despite the protesting spasms of his exhausted, battered body.

Upon reaching the village gates, Edward pushed past a gaggle of girls and women who were gathered around a long, flat riser that was being erected near the southern point of the village, catching snippets of their conversation as he apologetically elbowed them out of the way.

"…So excited for the festival tonight…"

"…I'm glad they didn't cancel it…"

"I wish King Edward was playing, don't you? The minstrel they got is OK, but…"

Bursting through Nick and Miaka's door, Edward pounded up the stairs and found everyone, including his guards, crowded in Harley's room and talking quietly among themselves. Nick jumped from his chair when he spotted Edward, his eyes immediately darting to the bottle Edward had torn from his belt on his way up the stairs.

"You've got the Sand Pearl! Quickly, shine its light on her!" Nick exclaimed, and Miaka shooed the guards out of the way so that Edward could approach the bed. Harley was twisted in the sheets, her cheeks sunken and her face and lips as white as the moons outside. Someone had made the effort to brush out her hair, which hung limply over her shoulders and over the sides of the bed, the tendrils soaked in sweat.

"Harley!" Edward gasped, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he turned the bottle over and deposited the Sand Pearl in his palm. Holding it inches above her face, the room began to fill with a warm, gentle glow, a pearlescent sheen washing over Harley's features as she grimaced and let out a strangled cry. Moments later, the Sand Pearl crumbled into dust, and Edward turned his palm, letting it sprinkle over her lips and chest.

"Ngh...Ugh..." Harley gasped, and Miaka leaned in, hesitantly tipping a carafe of water to her lips. But this time, instead of watching it spill, wasted, onto herself, Harley's mouth pressed eagerly against the glass, and her throat muscles flexing as she swallowed. Edward pressed his hand over his mouth, feeling his pulse palpitate through his fingers.

Reaching up and weakly pushing the carafe away, Harley turned to Edward, her eyelids fluttering as she locked her gaze onto his. "Your Highness...!"

Edward broke into a smile, shaking his head. "Harley! Thank goodness I made it in time..."

Harley let out a frustrated sigh as she reached up, pushing her hair out of her eyes and pressing her palm to her cheek. "My deepest apologies. This is all my fault...If only I hadn't pushed myself beyond my limits…I guess I'm not as young as I used to be, huh?" She smiled crookedly, her eyes watering as her fingers distractedly felt over her face for her glasses. "Did I ruin our chances to get to Baron? I know how badly you wanted to speak with Cecil…"

"No, Harley," Edward bit his lip, reaching for her glasses that were tucked away safely on the nightstand next to the bed, leaning in to delicately slide them back onto her face. She gazed up at him, blinking the tears from her lashes as he marveled at his reflection in her dilated eyes. He hardly recognized the person staring back at him – and for once, that was a _good_ feeling. "You did...nothing wrong...I realized…" his voice suddenly trailed off as his eyes closed without warning, falling forward and collapsing into Harley's lap with a loud crash. Harley shrieked, pressing her hands to her mouth in horror.

"Y-Your Highness!"

* * *

"Welcome home, Your Highness! How was the wedding?"

"Everything was as perfect as it could be," Edward smiled, shrugging off his traveling cloak and letting a yawn escape. The chancellor waited anxiously for more details as Edward drifted about the throne room that was still under a myriad of construction, a moony grin on his face. "Rosa was a breathtaking bride, and Cecil…well, I can tell he is going to be one of the finest kings to ever grace Baron's throne. I'm rather jealous of his subjects, to be honest."

"My lord, may I remind you that you're a king yourself?" The chancellor sighed, and Edward waved his hand, laughing.

"It's good for me to have a vision to live up to, is all I am saying. Is that better?"

"Not entirely, no. Cecil – er, King Cecil, is four years younger than you and has nary a fraction of your pedigree. You should at least take a little pride in your lineage, my lord."

Edward paused, shaking his head. Not that he agreed with the chancellor anyway, but if he had heard what Edward had learned about Cecil's _real_ lineage, he wondered if he would have still made such a comment. The thought of the look on the chancellor's face if he found out that the newest king of Baron was not only a non-royal, but was also only half-human and shared his genes with the force that had just tried to destroy their planet, was deliciously tempting. But alas, it was not Edward's secret to ever share, which he was perfectly content with. "Ah, where we come from is no matter. It's who we become that matters most. Speaking of such, is Harley still here?"

"No, Your Highness…She was sorry to have to miss you, but her ship left just a few hours before your return."

"Oh," Edward frowned. "That's too bad…I rather enjoyed talking with her before I had to go to Baron. So…what did you think of her? Do you think she would make a good assistant for the rebuild?"

The chancellor tilted his head. "What did _you_ think of her, Your Highness?"

Edward sank into his throne, gazing up at the nighttime sky that could still be seen through the incomplete throne room roofing. The late summer air was so delightfully still and free of the usual sticky humidity that plagued Damcyan this time of year, he was tempted to make camp under the stars that night. He had been so exhausted from dancing, laughing and toasting with all of his friends, that he could have fallen asleep standing up right then and there. How could he have possibly doubted going to the coronation? It had been one of the happiest days of his life – his new life, as he had come to think of it – despite the underlying sadness that still clawed at him deep inside.

But still…he had also been anxious to get back home and speak with Harley again – there had been something about her energy that just made him come alive – made him think about things differently when she talked about them versus anyone else. He thought part of it came from her rigorous academic background – she was first and foremost a scholar, and approached everything from a rationalistic perspective that was foreign to the upbringing one received when they were being groomed for the throne. But then she would surprise him with a surprisingly tender commentary about the state of the world in the aftermath of the war or the role empathy would play in rebuilding a nation – and he would have to go back to the drawing board in terms of figuring out just who he was dealing with.

Edward closed his eyes. "Quite frankly, she's brilliant. A breath of fresh air that could really elevate Damcyan's position in the world in the next ten years, if she were to apply herself to more than just the reconstruction project. Being a citizen of Troia, I think I better understand where her pacifist principles originate…yet, there is still something about her that feels very familiar, isn't there? I think the people of Damcyan would take to her."

The chancellor pressed his lips together. "I agree with you, Your Highness. She was very helpful while you were out – I'm anxious to show you the abundant progress that was made in your short time away, after you have recovered from your journey. But before we get carried away…I do think some due diligence is in order. She was not keen to share much of her background with either of us – we should prepare a dossier before any final decisions are made."

Edward raised his eyebrows. "You really think so? That could take weeks – we could really use her help as soon as possible."

The chancellor nodded. "I'm sorry, Your Highness – call it the paranoia of an old man who has seen too much in these past few troubling months. I have no reason to doubt your judgment of Miss Harley – and it was my hope as well that she could perhaps elevate beyond a standard assistant – that role seems too narrow for someone like her. However, all things considered…I think it would be for the best."

"Very well," Edward sighed. "But…let me do it, OK? You can certainly review my efforts before any final decisions are made."

The chancellor nodded. "As you wish, my lord."

* * *

 _Harley…when I found out where you were from and how your parents had died…I suddenly understood why I felt like you were so familiar to me. It was the strangest feeling – my soul knew everything about your agony as soon as I read your letter, and it was my mind that needed to catch up, only to confirm what I had known the entire time._

 _I've told myself that I couldn't prevent what happened that day to maintain a semblance of peace…but deep inside, you always wonder if that's really true. If I had been a better prince, would I have picked up on anything amiss? If I had spent less time running away and drowning myself in my music and the thrills of first love, would I have seen the signs of Baron's corruption earlier?_

 _But I think the difference between the me of seventeen years ago and the me now is not my title, but that I've realized I've grown stronger with you. If it's true that this new moon means we're doomed to repeat the past – as much as I fear it – I finally feel like I can change the tides of fate…if you're there to help me._

 _Forgive me for my selfishness…I only realized it when you fell ill…I need you by my side yet a little while longer._

* * *

"I think he's coming to."

"Nnngh..."

Edward's eyes fluttered open, and he was surprised to find himself staring up into an unfamiliar thatched ceiling. His dream – or rather, his memory – of being back in Damcyan after Cecil's wedding had seemed so real that he could practically feel the starlight dancing on his skin. Leaning over him, her white fingers clasped together, was Harley. Her hair had been swept back into its usual bun, and her face was clear of flush and shadow – she looked like her old self again.

"Your Highness! You're awake!"

Behind her, Nick clicked his tongue. "Luckily, this doesn't look like a case of desert fever to me. Just exhaustion. You were only out for a little while – I think your whole company just needs to learn what sleep is and start, you know…doing it."

Edward blushed, shaking his head. "Now it's my turn, is it? I apologize for worrying you."

Harley crossed her arms, huffing. "You've gone halfway around the world for me, my lord! Why did you put yourself through this?" Nick turned to her, raising his eyebrows.

"You're the one who's pushing herself too hard here, Harley. You've just recovered from illness yourself and yet here you are, refusing to leave his side. You should still be in bed too."

"What?" Edward blinked, and Harley blushed furiously, stabbing a finger into Nick's chest.

"You promised me you wouldn't tell him! Honestly…is this any way to treat a former school mate?"

Edward lowered his head, trying to hide the grin that was exploding onto his face. "Harley, you didn't have to do that."

Harley whirled around, pressing her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. "O-of course I did. You brought me the Sand Pearl, and...er, I mean, it is my duty as your secretary, my lord...that's all there is to it."

Edward laughed, feeling the blush in his cheeks crawl into his neck. "… _Thank you_ , Harley. I truly mean it."

"Your Highness," Amy stepped forward, giving a slight bow. "I don't want to rush anyone, but I felt you and Lady Harley should know that the next ship to Baron is due to leave tonight. I did some reconnaissance at the docks today while Toby and Jo stayed with Harley, and the sailors did not have kind things to say about their time in Baron – they were on the ship we were supposed to catch last night. It sounds like something odd is happening there, and they have been anxious to leave the country nearly as soon as they dock. I fear if we don't catch this ship, there may not be another opportunity for us in a long while – they are looking for excuses not to return."

"Is it truly only the same day that I left to get the Sand Pearl?" Edward asked confusedly, and Amy nodded.

"Yes, sir. Specifically, it's been two days since the moon's return. It sounds like you have been through quite the ordeal if you thought otherwise."

Edward shook his head. "I had no idea how long I was out in the waterway…but I suppose bumbling along in the river made my journey through quite efficient. It's just a shame I don't remember any of it."

"My lord!" Harley blanched. "No wonder you passed out! You were half-drowned!"

"But never mind that!" Edward smiled. "I'm OK now, and Amy's right. This might be our last chance to get to Baron – we must seize the opportunity."

"Are you sure you have to go so soon?" Miaka frowned. "The Kaipo Flower Festival is tonight – you don't have to go crazy, but a little fun might be what the doctor ordered after what you two have been through. There will be music and good food – everyone loves it."

"I'm sorry…we really must be going," Harley said softly. "But someday…I think I might like to come back for the festival. It's been nearly two decades…maybe it's time to make some new, _good_ memories here."

 _I'll take you, someday,_ Edward thought as he watched Harley's eyes water before she turned away, discreetly raising her sleeve to banish her tears. _It's time for me to make some new memories as well._

"Oh, Your Highness, do not forget these," Jo piped up, raising the bouquet of flowers in her arms that Edward had left behind at the inn. "You still wanted to give this to King Cecil, right?"

"Oh my…very thoughtful – and fitting for the Flower Festival!" Miaka smiled. "You know, Nick's grandparents once hosted King Cecil and Queen Rosa in this very house during their travels, long before they became king and queen. Isn't that a cute coincidence?"

Edward found himself gazing out of the lone window in the bedroom, catching a glance at the twin moons hanging ominously in the rapidly-darkening sky.

 _I'm not sure if coincidence is the right word…_

On the way to the docks, Edward caught the group up on his travels up north. When he had finished, all Harley could do was shake her head in dismay.

"All of that, AND you lost your harp as well? My debt to you grows ever larger, My Liege."

"It sounds like His Highness got what he wanted out of it," Toby winked. "Right?"

"Precisely," Edward smiled. "A harp and the memories throttled out of my brain from the river's thrashing can be replaced. You, Harley, simply cannot."

"Goodness," Harley flushed, hiding her face. "Did you hit your head as well?"

As they approached the last remaining ship in the eastern harbor, the captain bounded down the gangplank, waving. "King Edward! You headed for Baron? You've just made it with only seconds to spare, if so."

"Yes," Edward nodded. "Thank you for accommodating us."

"It's not a problem Your Highness," the captain nodded toward Amy. "Your guard told me everything earlier – we tried to hold off as long as we possibly could. Come on aboard, and make yourselves comfortable." He turned toward the ship, where a few sailors were scrambling about making last minute checks. "Prepare to raise anchor, men! Off we go!"

"Aye-aye, sir!"

* * *

With the darkness of the evening quickly ascending upon them, Edward had gone down into the captain's quarters to obtain a lantern. He had noticed that Harley was furiously scribbling in her notebook, and figured she needed some light to write by. He knew if he let her keep at it, she would be squinting so hard that she would eventually exhaust herself and complain of a headache the next morning. When he returned to the deck, oil lamp in hand, he sat on the crate next to Harley, raising the lantern over her head. "How are you feeling?"

Harley lifted her eyes, looking up at him as she rested the nib of her pen against the fresh page she had just started. "J-just fine, my lord! But what about you?"

Edward smiled, gazing into the soft yellow glow of the lamp. _A beautiful yellow gown, drifting over the waves of the moonlight-streaked lake…perhaps for the last time._ "I could hardly feel healthier right now. Indeed, healthier than I've been in many years..."

Harley blinked. "Sir?"

Edward shook his head. "Oh, sorry. Just reminiscing about the past a little."

Harley turned back to her notebook, biting her lip. "I see..." She glanced up at the sky, her pen starting to move – Edward saw that she was sketching the twin moons.

"Is something the matter?" Edward asked, and Harley didn't reply for a few moments while she completed her sketch. Her pen moved underneath the orbs, where she seemed to hesitate in writing anything further. Finally, she set the pen down in the spine of the notebook, and looked back at Edward.

"Your Highness...what do you think about that moon?"

Edward pursed his lips together as he lifted his gaze to the skies above. The sea breeze was as volatile as ever, suddenly blowing a spray of water upon the deck, of which Edward took the brunt of for the two of them. But despite the growing chill, he didn't even flinch – he was transfixed by the heavens.

 _Is that really that same moon? The same moon from before? The Lunarians..._

"Golbez..." Harley muttered, and Edward was shaken from his trance. When he looked back down at her notebook, she saw the familiar name scrawled beneath the smaller moon. Harley bit her lip, underlining his name three times. "The sorcerer in black armor. The one who once took Baron hostage and used it to take the crystals. In the end, he left the planet, along with his moon."

"You know about that?" Edward gasped, and Harley raised an eyebrow.

"So it _is_ true."

Edward pressed his lips together, and Harley shrugged.

"Please don't seem so surprised. I simply conducted a little research of my own. It was a little too coincidental that the man who had wreaked havoc throughout the planet suddenly disappeared along with an entire moon."

Edward could only snort – of course she had figured it out. "How much more do you know?"

"I know of certain theories regarding magic and airships...claiming they were gifts from the moon, not discoveries made by people here. And that perhaps some of the moon's descendants walk among us even now." She scrawled one more name in her notebook under Golbez's, and Edward leaned over her shoulder.

 _Cecil._

Edward let out a quiet sigh. "Impressive."

Harley chewed on the end of the pen thoughtfully. "But this moon...It looks different to my eyes. It is not the same one as before...not the one I remember seeing in the past." Finally, she slammed the notebook shut, and Edward stood up, stretching as the lantern gently swung in his hands on its handle, making their shadows dance across the deck.

"I must agree…"

"Captain! Fabulian ship off our port side!" There came a shout from one of the sailors, and both Edward and Harley looked up in surprise, staring at each other.

"Ha ha!" the captain bellowed from the steering wheel. "Let's show 'em what we got, my lads! I haven't seen Captain Carter in a dog's age…time to show him who has the faster ship!"

"Aye-aye, sir!" the sailors chanted, and they heard another sail unfurling above them.

"Fabul?" Edward blinked, approaching the railing with the lantern raised. Harley stood up to follow him, tucking her hair behind her ears as another piercing gust of wind blew. "Is that...Yang!?" Edward gasped, pushing his wavy hair out of his face and tugging his scarf further down from his mouth.

Harley raised her eyebrows and pushed her glasses further up her nose to get a better look at the ship that had come into view. "As in the king of Fabul?" In the glow of the lantern, she could see someone that did greatly resemble King Yang – a large, imposing figure that could crudely be described as layers of muscles that had their own muscles, who had a long blonde whippet of a ponytail that reached past his waist, set in a thick rope-like braid. He was accompanied by a young girl with blonde, bushy pigtails who could only be Princess Ursula, and a group of monks. Glancing back at their own company of guards, Harley bit her lip.

Edward nodded excitedly. "Yes. You could not find a stronger or gentler monarch…nor one half so brave. It's been ages since we last spoke…!"

Yang shouted across the sea, his hands cupped over his mouth. "Edward! Are you sailing for Baron as well?"

"Yes, that's right!" Edward exclaimed. Harley looked at Edward, her palms suddenly sweating against the ship's railing.

"Their destination is the same as ours?" she blinked.

Edward turned to face her. "Indeed. Fabul has picked up on the same signs we have, no doubt. Ah, what a shot of confidence, knowing that he's on _our_ side!"

"So something must be afoot in Baron after all..." Harley trailed off. _What will King Cecil do if both Edward and Yang approach him…? This could turn dangerous very quickly…will he perceive it as an attack? What signs did Fabul pick up on? Did the Red Wings visit them as well about the meteor…?_

Suddenly, their shipped seemed to surge ahead – in the blink of an eye, Yang and Ursula's ship was swallowed into the darkness. Harley and Edward ran toward the rear of the ship, trying to see what was going on – but it was no good – the Fabulian ship had completely disappeared from sight.

"Master Yang's ship is falling behind," Harley frowned.

"What happened to them? Could there be some trouble on board?" Edward suddenly shivered, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw. "Ugh…"

"What's wrong, my lord?" Harley reached up, gently resting her fingers over his plate armor, which was covered in a spray of water. "Are you cold?"

Edward opened his eyes, shaking his head slowly. Still, he refused to look at her. "No...I'm all right. Just remembered something else from a long time ago…"

* * *

Much later that night, Edward awoke to a chorus of garbled shouting and the sound of freight being dropped in thundering crashes that made him nearly fall out of bed. He heard someone stirring in the bed in the next corner over, and when he pried open his eyes, he saw Harley standing on her toes, gazing out the microscopic porthole that acted as their window.

"I think we've made it to Baron," Harley muttered. She reached into her pocket, retrieving a silver pocket watch, and clicked it open. "It's nearly ten in the evening. Hardly a civilized hour to conduct any business. And I don't see King Yang's ship…they must have encountered a delay after all. In fact, I think we're the only ship in the harbor."

Edward stared silently at his hands, his lips pressed together. Every day – no, every hour – that the dreaded moon hung in the sky, the greater the dread he felt pressing upon his spine.

"We should try to see Cecil tonight," Edward said, and Harley turned away from the porthole, her eyebrows knitted together.

"Are you serious, Your Highness? Won't that exacerbate the delicate situation we seem to be in?"

Edward shook his head, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His eyes had turned to flint, and they were focused intensely on the floorboards beneath his boots. "I think the delicateness of this situation is precisely why we should skirt protocol just this once, don't you think? Cecil will understand."

Harley pressed her lips together as she watched Edward exit the berth. Inside, she could feel the screams of protest rising against her throat – but she couldn't bring herself to argue with him. Normally, it would have been her job to do so, and she would have accepted the task gladly – but something about the cold, distant look his eyes took on when he said Cecil's name made her think better of it. Maybe he was already steeling himself for the worst instead of approaching the crisis with his usual naïve optimism.

 _What exactly happened to you while I was out of commission, my lord?_

Harley reached the surface of the ship just in time to catch the tail-end of Edward's orders to the royal guard, all of whom had either been awoken from a nap of their own or had never gone to sleep – their weary, swollen-eyed stares could have indicated either scenario.

"…And if we don't return within the hour, please present yourselves to Castle Baron."

 _If we don't return?_ Harley blinked. _What is this madness?_

Edward nodded toward her in acknowledgment of her arrival. "Harley, you and I will go ahead to the castle first. I think it will give the wrong impression if we approach with a guard." Grasped in his hand was the bouquet for Cecil, which had bloomed exquisitely since they had left the flowerbeds of Damcyan – you could have hardly timed it more perfectly to present as a gift.

"Um…" For once, Harley didn't know what to say. All she could do was nod.

"Be careful, Your Highness, and Harley," Toby bowed. "We'll wait here for now."

Edward and Harley clambered down the gangplank to the docks, where some of the sailors who had accompanied them were hauling the freight Edward had heard crashing outside. Others were chatting up a small smattering of merchants that were still packing up their stands for the close of business, shiftily glancing around them every few moments as they talked. There were no signs of any of Baron's soldiers, which seemed a little unusual – for a military state like Baron, they certainly had enough of them to protect all the entrances to their kingdom, even a little trade harbor. There was still the possibility of sea monsters shambling their way to shore, after all – Edward could have sworn that he had at a minimum encountered Red Wing cadets who were stuck with the graveyard guard shifts in times past.

"I know it's late, but the mood seems more somber than usual," Harley remarked. "Maybe business hasn't been good?"

"Perhaps," Edward nodded, and she let the subject drop.

After a short walk through the meadow that connected the harbor to Baron proper, Edward and Harley approached the castle gates, where two soldiers were awaiting them. Both dressed in violet armor, they appeared to be dragoons – Edward had the arbitrary realization that he didn't know who had actually ever started leading the dragoons in Kain's place when he had disappeared off the face of the planet after the war. Had Cecil taken over in his best friend's role as captain?

"Who goes there?" the dragoon on the right questioned, and Harley's cheeks immediately became inflamed, matching the crackling torches that were positioned over each soldier's head in the gateway.

"How _rude_ of you! You fail to recognize King Edward, ruler of Damcyan?"

The two soldiers looked at each other dumbly. "What...?" Harley snorted in disbelief, and Edward cleared his throat, discreetly resting his hand at her elbow. Looming above and in front of them, nearly every window in the castle was still ablaze with light – _someone_ was still up and about, at least that much was certain.

"I am here to see King Cecil. May we pass?"

"We wish to speak with His Majesty personally to discuss the reply we received from his messenger," Harley added, wrestling her elbow away from Edward's cold fingers with a subtle twist.

The soldiers looked each other again, but much to the visiting party's surprise, merely shrugged. "... Very well. You may proceed." They turned, pulling open the towering wooden doors that were behind them, leaving just enough space for Edward and Harley to slip through single-file. Edward glanced back at Harley before stepping inside, and Harley shot the guards one last look of disgust before running after him. Moments after she had crossed the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind her, the sound of the wood hurriedly scraping against the stone floors of the keep making the hair on the back of her neck shoot straight up.

"There's no one here," Edward frowned. "Where are all the guards?"

"Maybe changing shifts for the night?" Harley whimpered, wondering if the anxious pounding of her heart could be heard when she spoke out loud. She had never been one to get frightened easily – she had just unabashedly tossed herself into a rotting crater days earlier, after all – but something about the very air of the castle itself felt like it was suffocating her. She feared if she kept breathing too hard that she would suck all of the oxygen out of the room and feel her organs start to shut down. "Perhaps we should just make our way to the throne room so that we don't get caught in any _perceived_ compromising situations?"

Crossing through one empty chamber after the next, at last, they finally reached the antechamber, where they were greeted by yet two more guards seemingly identical to the ones outside, but not one single castle resident. In the brighter light, Edward could see that there were heavy shadows under both men's' eyes, only barely concealed by the sloping hood of their helmets that otherwise made them indistinguishable from each other. Wordlessly, they parted, each grasping a golden handle on the throne room doors and pulling them open. Before they entered, Edward turned to Harley, holding out the bouquet. Wordlessly, she tucked the flowers against her chest, and followed him inside.

Leaning into the throne at the top of a short flight of stairs, his slender jawline pressed into the palm of his hand, was Cecil. His silver-white hair fell down his shoulders in glossy waves, deep blue amazonite and pearl beads braided in his locks in place of a crown. His pale pink lips curled into a smile as his narrowed eyes fell over the visitors. Sitting up a few inches, Cecil crossed one leg over the other and extended his index finger along the curve of his cheek.

"It has been long since we last met, Cecil," Edward offered hopefully, having banished the chilled, calculated tone he had carried since they had left the ship. Cecil smiled brilliantly, his right canine gleaming in the muted candlelight – although Harley couldn't help but feel like she was watching a predator size up his prey and not the reunion of two dear friends.

"It certainly has, Edward. Quite a long time indeed."

His voice lacked any warmth or familiarity, and Harley saw his eyes flash as they fell upon her next – as if he didn't quite like what he saw. Trying her best to cordially avoid his stare, she watched helplessly as Edward's face crumpled in confusion. Finally, Cecil cut his glance back to Edward, arching his brow.

"Is something bothering you, Edward? You can take it easy here, you know."

"I...I appreciate your kindness," Edward stuttered, and Harley had to restrain herself from both shooting Cecil a dirty look and stomping on Edward's foot to remind him that he was Cecil's equal in every way, despite what his severe lack of confidence indicated otherwise.

Completely oblivious to Harley's growing rage, Cecil tapped his finger gently to his temple. The beads in his hair chimed airily like the tune in a music box. "Come now, Edward. To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the king of Damcyan?

Grateful to have made it relatively unscathed through their awkward reintroduction, Edward cleared his throat and raised his chin, much to Harley's relief. "I have come to speak of the meteor."

Cecil nodded thoughtfully. "If that is why you are here, then the answer is the same as the one my emissary gave you. You have _nothing_ to worry about. Please let Baron handle the matter."

Edward pressed a hand to his hip. "...And why _should_ Baron handle it?"

 _That's right!_ Harley smiled gently. _You've got this, my lord!_

"Do we have a trust issue here, Edward?" Cecil purred dangerously, and Harley's face fell.

 _Damnation!_

Edward shook his head quickly. "…Of course not."

"Superb," Cecil nodded, shifting in his throne so that now his right leg crossed over his left. "I'm so glad you understand, Edward. I _knew_ I could count on that."

Edward bit down on his lip, taking a slow, tempered breath. Since when did Cecil Harvey use pretentious words like _"superb"_ in his vocabulary? It was like he was speaking an entirely different language. Cecil's gaze flicked between Harley and Edward once again, and Harley couldn't help but inch closer to Edward's side. Edward had also noticed that Cecil still hadn't actually acknowledged Harley's existence, which was even more bizarre. It wasn't like they were strangers – Harley had been a part of Edward's life for almost as long as he had known Cecil.

"Something the matter?" Cecil breathed, and Harley could feel Edward jump.

"W-What are your thoughts on that moon, Cecil?"

Cecil tilted his head. "...What do _you_ think about it?"

Edward swallowed nervously. "I believe it portends ill times ahead for all of us. It reminds me too much of the past events that still haunt us to this day."

"Hmm," Cecil frowned, looking away. "All the more reason, then, that I hope you will allow us to handle the matters concerning the fallen meteor."

"I see…" Edward looked down. "So you think the two _are_ related?"

"Baron has a mandate to govern over this land, to keep it at peace," Cecil drawled, twisting a lock of hair around his finger bemusedly. "I almost feel a…personal responsibility for the moon, you understand? If it is the Lunarians making their return – well, I can't very well just turn my back to it all, can I? I suppose I'm the only one who can actually do anything about it, in that case."

Edward had to grind his teeth to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. _No! You're not alone Cecil – you never were! What about Rosa, Rydia, Edge and Kain?! What about Harley and I?_ But instead, he merely nodded, and Harley stared at the floor, devastated at what she was hearing. She had anticipated some friction, but nothing like this – this was beyond even the worse-case scenario she had neatly mapped out in her mind. Had Cecil really lost faith in those who had fought beside him during the first war? _Why take everything on himself?_

Finally, Edward gave a short bow. "…Of course. But if you ever need to consult with me, please do not hesitate to do so."

Cecil tilted his chin slightly, his eyes never leaving Edward's – Harley had never seen such a cold, depthless stare – Cecil's eyes had transformed into black holes, where light went to die. "Thank you so much for taking the long journey to my domain, Edward..."

 _So, that's it? We're dismissed…?_ Edward clenched his fists. "If you will excuse me, then..." Harley pretended to fall in step with him, leaning in and pressing her lips to his ear hurriedly as she held up the bouquet as a shield.

"Your Highness? Is this _really_ just up to Cecil to decide?"

Edward blinked, his eyes meeting Harley's briefly before he whirled back around to face Cecil. "Ah, one more thing. I could not help but notice that Queen Rosa is not with us today."

Cecil frowned. "Yes. She's not feeling very well, I'm afraid."

"Is that so? That is troubling news."

Cecil shrugged. "There's no need for alarm. It is nothing _life-threatening_."

Edward decided to press his luck a bit more. "Is Prince Ceodore doing well?"

"Absolutely," Cecil flashed another smile. "He is out of the castle for training right now."

"That is good to hear," Edward replied softly.

"My wife and I would expect nothing less from our son, after all," Cecil uttered, shaking his head with a grin as if to say "kids, right?". "Now then, I wish you a safe and pleasant journey home."

"Yes, my lord," Edward nodded, and Harley looked away, folding her hands together over the stems of the bouquet. She was afraid if she looked at Cecil's condescending smirk one last time that she would launch herself across the throne and smack it off his pretty face with her whip.

As they started to walk away, Cecil suddenly leapt up from the throne, laughing to himself as if someone had just shared a hilarious joke. "Ah, I _just_ remembered. Guards, please present King Edward with the gift we discussed."

"Yes, sir!" Two voices exclaimed from behind Edward and Harley, causing her to nearly scream in shock. A pair of soldiers emerged from the sweeping curtains that had been tied back over the panoramic window that made up the rear wall of the throne room, and Harley's hand flew to her chest. Had they been being watched the _entire_ time?

"From the king, Your Majesty," one of the soldiers offered, handing Edward a gunmetal gray, hinged box that fit snuggly in the palm of his hand. Carved in the lid of the box was the Baronian crest.

"What is this, my lord?" Edward asked confusedly, turning the box over in his fingers. A small swing enclosure in the front kept it sealed tight.

"A token of our friendship, and of my appreciation for your visit. Please, accept it." Cecil approached Edward, closing his hands over the box in Edward's hand and emphatically pressing it into Edward's chest. Edward looked up at him apprehensively, shivering from the chill of his fingers.

"I-I appreciate your kindness. In that case, I have also brought a souvenir from Damcyan," he nodded toward Harley, who blinked, forgetting about the flowers in her hands. Cecil watched her expectantly, and she flushed as she clumsily handed them over. Cecil pressed his nose to the blossoms, inhaling deeply.

"Such beautiful flowers. How befitting of you, if I may say so, Edward," Cecil handed them off to the waiting guard, who plopped them without ceremony into an ornamental vase that was sitting empty in the back of the room. "With Rosa sick, the throne room has been lacking fresh flowers from our rose garden – so this is perfect timing."

 _Say something, Cecil…say that you remember…!_ Edward watched the flowers gently flop forward within the vase in a heap – the guard had not bothered putting them in a vessel that was an appropriate size. Cecil glanced back at the vase and then looked to Edward, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Is something the matter?"

"Oh, nothing. I am glad you like them," Edward shrugged, taking a cue from Cecil and offering a bright smile of his own. Taking Harley's arm, he raised a hand in departure. Cecil raised his as well.

"Until we meet again, Edward."

"Certainly. Do take care."

Harley let Edward escort her out of the throne room. As the doors slammed behind them, Harley let out a low hiss.

"Your Highness! What is the meaning of this?"

"We're going home," Edward answered her whisper in a normal tone through his teeth, and he tried rolling his eyes back toward the throne room doors to indicate that they still could have been under observation.

"Your Highness?" Harley frowned, and Edward tugged her forward.

"Let's go."

They quickly made their exit from the caste, once again only seeing the same guards that had greeted them at the gates. It was only when they had returned to the ship that either of them spoke aloud once again. The captain was waiting near the steering wheel, stifling a yawn, and Amy, Toby and Jo were leaning against a pile of empty crates, fast-asleep and using each other's' heads for pillows.

"Well, that was certainly quick!" the captain guffawed. "I told your companions that I'd wake them when the hour passed, but I guess there's no need now. We're ready to go when you are – no other passengers tonight except you five, and all of the cargo has been unloaded. Shall we shove off?"

"Yes, please," Edward sighed. "But may I make a small request?"

"What's that?" the captain asked, and Harley looked at Edward in surprise.

"If you have no other business in Kaipo, would you be willing to take as far as the northeastern coast of Damcyan, near Mount Hobs? We're all exhausted and Harley is still recovering from desert fever – the thought of making the journey home through the underground waterway does not appeal to me after the night we've had."

"Er – of course Your Highness," the captain blinked. "We'll try to get you as close as we can without a proper dock. If the winds are good tonight, we'll most likely reach Damcyan in the morning."

"My lord, please don't ask this just on my account," Harley blushed, but Edward shook his head.

"I won't hear any arguments, Harley. Meet me in the berth for a debrief, all right?" With that, Edward turned and disappeared down the stairwell that took them below deck.

"Er…all right," Harley blinked, glancing back at the captain apologetically. "Thank you for your trouble…"

"It's nothing, Lady Harley," the captain smiled. "It does sound like you've had a long day. I suggest you get some rest – we'll try to make it as smooth sailing for you as we can."

A few minutes later, Harley drifted downstairs, finding Edward exactly where he had said he would be – back in the berth they had been napping in earlier. She could hear the sailors above on the deck shouting orders at each other as the ship pulled away from the docks, and watched wordlessly as their minimal view in the porthole changed from the Baron harbor to endless blue. Edward looked up at Harley, hunched over in the bed with his arms between his knees. Gone was the noble lord who had marched fearlessly into Baron – replaced by a defeated whisp of a man.

Harley rested her hand on her hip. "Your Highness, what was the meaning of your behavior in front of King Cecil? Why were you acting so…" she bit her lip, looking for the right – and least offensive – descriptor. "…Compliant?"

Edward laughed softly. "You don't have to spare your words, Harley – I need the truth from you more so than anyone else. However, that person was _not_ Cecil."

Harley nearly choked. _"What!?"_ She kicked her foot back so that it knocked into the door, slamming it shut. "My lord, what are you saying?"

"The real Cecil would have known what my gift really was," Edward frowned. "But…he didn't say a thing."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this," Edward reached inside his vest, retrieving a single white flower. "You had asked me – back in the waterway – if I had ever assisted Cecil with my harp. Well…there was one time where I was actually useful to my friends – the only time. It was when I was laid up in Troia – Cecil, Tellah, Cid and Yang had come to the kingdom in attempt to retrieve the stolen Crystal of Earth from the Dark Elf, and we were briefly reunited. I had troubling rumors that the Dark Elf protected himself with an amplified magnetic field that rendered armor and swords useless in battle – which would put Cecil at a terrible disadvantage. I was so weak that I couldn't even get out of bed – so I did the only thing I could for him at that time – I sent him to fight the Dark Elf with a blade of whisperweed." Edward held out the flower, twirling it in his fingers. "Through it, I was able to transmit the sound of my harp and play a song that disrupted the Dark Elf's concentration – it broke his control over the magnetic field, and Cecil was able to slay him and save the crystal."

"Your Highness…" Harley shook her head. "So you think because King Cecil didn't recognize the whisperweed, he…"

Suddenly, a female voice filled the room, and Edward pressed his finger to his lips to shush Harley. The flower in his hand was faintly glowing, pulsating with each clipped syllable that hung in the air.

"Are you sure that was wise?"

"The voices are coming from the flower!?" Harley squealed, and Edward nodded, holding up his finger once more. Next came a new voice – male, and very familiar.

"There is nothing to worry about. Though he _was_ acting extremely suspicious of me...It appears that he came here personally just to check up on matters."

"Weaker creatures need to be more cautious."

Harley clasped her hand to her mouth. _That's Cecil…but the female voice…it doesn't sound like Queen Rosa at all. It's too deep and remote...like she's reading lines from a dictionary._

"Damcyan is a hub of commerce, not of war. Its military is no more than mere ceremony. Seizing it would be a simple matter."

"I see. So the Fire Crystal…."

"…is ours anytime we wish to take it."

"Overconfidence is ill-advised."

"It is not overconfidence. My plan is already underway."

Harley whispered against her palm. "Plan? To _steal_ our crystal!?"

Edward sighed, lowering the flower on the bed next to him. It had gone silent and stopped glowing – whoever Cecil had been talking to was gone, or the conversation was over. "The gift Cecil gave us. You must be curious about it."

"Oh, yes, of course," Harley nodded. "He seemed excited to give it to you."

Edward held out the metal box, shaking his head. "Well, I must disappoint you, for this box can _never_ be opened."

Harley frowned. "Are you already aware of its contents, Your Highness?"

Edward sighed. "If my hunch is correct, then it contains a Carnelian Signet...It is the very item behind the tragedy that once befell Mist, by Cecil's unknowing hand."

"Your Highness?" Harley swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "If it's that dangerous…shouldn't we toss it into the ocean right now? And…what are we going to do if Baron really comes for our crystal? Why does Cecil want it in the first place?" She didn't want to say it out loud but Cecil's disembodied voice had been right – Damcyan had never been rebuilt with war in mind – there was no way they could defend themselves against even a fraction of Baron's military. If she were being really honest, King Cecil himself could probably just stroll up to the front door and take out half of their guard on his own.

But before Edward could reply, they heard a shout from above.

"Captain! Up ahead!"

"Whoa! What's _that_!?"

Harley threw open the door, bolting up the stairs with Edward in close pursuit. When they reached the deck, they saw a gathering of sailors at the bow of the ship, all staring at a massive whirlpool that had erupted in the middle of their route. The ship had already started turning to get out of its way, but before the vessel could be righted, the whirlpool became suffused with a myriad of bubbles, and vanished before their eyes, like nothing had happened.

"My lord!" Harley gasped.

"Did...did Yang's ship run into one of those?" Edward whispered. "How did it appear and disappear so suddenly?"

"We've heard rumors of these random maelstroms just popping up out of the blue as of late, but this is the first time I've seen one," the captain frowned. "Let us pray we don't run into any more on our way home."

Edward lowered his head, feeling a familiar, but threatening, chill trickle down his spine. It had been seventeen years, but he had never forgotten the dread that had seeped into his very marrow right before their ship had been attacked – before Rydia had been swallowed by a sea god and aged seemingly overnight into a young woman thanks to the twisted time flow of the Feymarch; before Cecil had thrown himself over Edward's flailing form in an attempt to keep him from being torn away from their ship…

Edward could never remember what happened after that – something heavy had crashed into him and shattered his body, and when he had next opened his eyes, Cecil was long-gone, and he was waiting to die on a beach in Troia.

 _Leviathan…! Has something happened to you and Rydia?_

* * *

Edward was so exhausted that he had begun seeing things as they finally emerged from the ship onto the white, fine-sanded beaches of Damcyan's northeastern shore, a short distance away from the meteor impact site and the antlion cave. Only half-awake thanks to a night of shallow, nightmare-ridden sleep, he took the last of the gold that was in his pockets and handed it all to the captain, who espoused his thanks over and over until Edward had walked far enough down the gangplank that he could no longer make out the captain's voice. In the far distance, he could swear that he saw a group of soldiers approaching, but that would have been nigh-impossible. None of his troops ever surveyed the northeast shores, and certainly no one would have been expecting him to return by ship to this particular location, since he had convinced the captain to go off-route. He glanced over at Harley, jealously taking in her sleeping form as she lay slumped over Toby's shoulders. They had all tried awakening her when they had arrived to no avail, so Toby had decided it was just easier to carry her out like a sack of flour.

But the further they got from the ship, the closer yet the mirage of soldiers came, and Edward was shook when he heard one of them very clearly shout his name.

"King Edward…!"

Amy, Toby and Jo had heard it too, and even Harley stirred slightly – so it wasn't a mirage after all.

"What in the world is our guard doing out here?" Amy asked under her breath. "Your Highness, please stay vigilant."

"Isn't that my line?" Edward asked drowsily, but Amy didn't laugh.

A few minutes later the soldiers had caught up to them, exchanging salutes with Edward's guard.

"Thank goodness we found you, Your Highness," one of them said. "The chancellor wanted us to find you as soon as possible – we'd just come back from searching the antlion cave when we spotted the ship. Some children at the castle had tipped us off that you had been heading in that direction…"

 _Ah, so Mariah and Reed figured out who "Chris" was after all. I suppose it was only a matter of time._ Edward crossed his arms impatiently. If the chancellor ended up catching any kind of hint that Harley had been in danger, Edward would never hear the end of it – was that what this was about? Or...gods forbid, had Baron already made their move for the Crystal of Fire? "The chancellor knew where I was and we've made it home in due time. There may have been a slight delay, but…"

"I apologize for our intrusion, my lord – but his orders were to bring you home as soon as we found you. Some guests were brought to the castle and they have apparently shared with the chancellor distressing news that he wishes you to know right away."

 _That_ snapped Edward out of his sleepy stupor.

"Guests? From where? And did you say _brought?_ "

The soldiers shook their head. "The chancellor would tell us no more than he felt we needed to know – I'm so sorry, my lord. It sounded very sensitive. Please, if you would come with us…"

"Yes, yes, right away," Edward sighed. "Please, lead us."

Crossing west toward the castle, Edward tried to push away every negative anticipation that bubbled to the surface of his brain, but after what he had seen both in Baron and on the seas returning home, he could only allow himself the luxury of terror for whatever was surely coming next. As soon as they had set foot on the castle steps, another guard rushed out to meet them, and this time the excitement finally woke up Harley.

"Mmmm…" she blinked a few times, instantly blushing when she felt Toby's arm positioned right beneath her bottom to keep her hoisted in the air. "Er…I'm quite awake now, thank you!"

"Your Highness! Harley! Please, right this way – the chancellor is in the throne room. Amy, Toby, Jo – you are dismissed for now," the guard saluted them, and they all gave a salute back.

"Have a good day," Toby said, setting Harley down as if she were a glass figurine. She flushed and turned away, looking up at Edward. Wordlessly, he took her wrist and pulled her forward, running so fast that she otherwise wouldn't have been able to keep up on her own.

The throne room doors were tightly shut, which was not standard protocol – whenever Edward did not have a need for privacy, he liked for the doors to be open so that the castle residents never felt like they were excluded from any particular parts of the castle – it was their home too, after all. Harley tugged the doors open, and they stepped inside, both surprised to not only see every chandelier in the room lit ablaze, but also the fireplace that they so rarely used, since the climate was usually far too warm for it to serve any real purpose other than atmospheric.

Two figures stood next to the fire, one of them a woman who wrapped in layers of blankets with tangles of wet hair, head lowered and delicate hands clutching the fabric so tightly that her knuckles were a pale, glossy white in the flickering light of the flames. Next to her stood a stout man, his back turned to the entryway as he kept one arm wrapped around his shivering companion, the other waving wildly in the air as he relayed something neither Edward nor Harley could hear to the chancellor, who was standing with his back to the wall. As soon as the chancellor laid eyes on Edward and Harley, he jumped up, shouting in excitement as their two "guests" turned to see who had entered.

"Oh my gods," Edward gasped, and Harley pressed her hands to her mouth in shock, only able to emit a high-pitched squeak.

"What in the world are _you_ doing here?"


	20. Act Twenty: Eblanese Tales

Act Twenty: Eblanese Tales | The Pulse of Babil

 _Eblan, the morning of the moon's return_

Edward "Edge" Geraldine, King of Eblan and last of his name, sheathed his twin blades, Murasame and Masamune, in the holsters that had been hastily strapped to his back. He stared wordlessly at his defeated opponents, better known throughout their kingdom as the Eblan Four, who were now laying helplessly at his feet. The battle had been over in moments – he had been taken by surprise, but even four energetic ninjas who _didn't_ seemingly hate mornings nearly as much as he were no match for his unfailing agility and his unquenchable need to simply eliminate any obstacle that got in the way of his having a good time. Some called that second item a character flaw – he considered it a desirable skill. It was good to know what you wanted out of life, right?

He had originally awoken early to get some reading in – or at least, that's what he liked to call it when a new issue of Ninja Sutra showed up under his door, concealed in a plain paper wrapper. Almost as if he had known Edge was up to something fun, the Seneschal had started in on him earlier than scheduled – usually he waited for Edge to saunter into the throne room and settle in before picking the day's fight – but not today.

Edge heard the pounding footsteps and the banging on his door that acted as the prelude to yet another lecture. He had at least wised up during the last seventeen years and had gotten a lock put on his door when their castle was rebuilt, so the Seneschal could only scream at him _through_ the door of his bedroom while he struggled to pull on his pants and plan his escape. The Seneschal was going on about royal duty, responsibility, being leaderful, blah, blah, blah… Edge couldn't be positive, but he wondered if this had had anything to do with him clearing out the liquor stores last night to throw an impromptu engagement party for one of the more fetching ladies of the castle, whose boyfriend in Agart had finally proposed. Edge was always looking for a reason to celebrate, and an impending marriage was as good a reason as any.

He wasn't sure how long they would actually _be_ engaged, considering the young lady had tried to lay what would have been a delicious kiss on Edge late into the party – but he had been perfectly honorable and sent her on her way back to her room, _alone_ – so at least the Seneschal couldn't yell at him about being a homewrecker, too.

When he was sufficiently dressed in somewhat clean, dark blue, cotton garb that he had fetched from the floor, his pants hurriedly tucked into his brown sheepskin boots and gold obi tied crookedly around his waist, he shoved the magazine inside his obi and snuck out of his room by climbing out the window. As he draped his legs over the windowsill, he couldn't help but glance up toward the Tower of Babil to the west – he felt his pulse accelerate when he observed what he swore was a faint silver glow enveloping the tower, tracing its outline against the still-dark dawn sky.

 _Maybe I'm finally losing it…someone would have come to my door a lot earlier if the tower were actually lit up…_

Edge dropped from the window, running across the roof until he could scale down the tower and drop into the courtyard in a nonchalant fashion. In a castle full of ninjas, having your king suddenly materialize out of thin air was no big deal – he figured he could blend right in with the other early risers and slip out the front door, unnoticed.

It had been when he crossed the castle gates in attempt to flee to the beach that he had been ambushed by the four ninjas that had no idea what type of errand they were getting in the way of, and thus were doomed before the first blade had even been drawn.

The first of his fallen opponents, Zangetsu, an elderly man with wispy white hair tied back into a low ponytail and a tanned complexion that resembled that of a well-loved leather glove, climbed to his feet shakily, brushing the dust off of his black bodysuit and giving a strained chortle as he tossed his monarch-yellow cloak back over his shoulders.

"Just as I would have expected, Master."

Behind him, Edge's second opponent rose as well. Gekkou, a middle-aged gentle giant, stooped down to retrieve his battle axe, hoisting it over his shoulder while using the red hood of his cloak as an impromptu sweat rag. "Even with the four of us together, we were like mere children against your assault."

"We are still lacking in every way," Izayoi, a striking young woman with thick, dark hair swept into a high ponytail that sat at the crown of her head, lamented as she kicked at a stray rock with a navy-blue leather boot.

Tsukinowa, both the final challenger and the smallest, piped up from behind Izayoi, his older cousin. (He was technically her first cousin once removed, being that his mother was Izayoi's _actual_ cousin – but the Eblanese liked to keep things simple, so any familial relation more complex than that simply became "cousin".) "Truly, you have earned your name as master of our clan!"

Edge sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away. "Quit buttering me up like that. I've gotten far more out-of-shape than I care to admit." In the peak of his training, Edge was sure they wouldn't have even gotten the drop on him in the first place – he would have sniffed them out and taken them down before they could have even blinked. But he had let his training regimen go, particularly in the past few years – for a large variety of reasons.

Tsukinowa laughed, his oversized green shawl that drowned his petite frame billowing in the early morning wind. "You're so modest, Master. I have heard many tales about the great feats you have accomplished in the past. Could it be that you are still holding back to protect us from injury?"

 _Modest?!_ Edge nearly fell over in shock. He had been called a lot of things in his life – mostly deplorable, four-letter words – and modest was never one of them.

Izayoi gave her cousin's violet ponytail a hard tug, and he squealed as his head yanked back involuntarily. "Hold your tongue, Tsukinowa. Master Edge wouldn't hold himself back for anyone – friend or foe."

Edge turned to look at her, smiling slightly – not that any of them could see behind his dark blue cowl. "Don't worry about it. I'd rather you give it to me straight and say what's on your mind. If you thought I was holding back, it means I'm going to have to up my game the next time you try to pull a sneak attack on me. I'll admit it was an ambitious attempt."

Zangetsu bowed his head. "You are tolerant as always, Master. Sacrificing your own time to offer each of us your training... I, Zangetsu, could hope for no higher honor in my lifetime!"

"It's only because you all practically twisted my arm to do this," Edge protested. _Am I ever going to get to look at this damn magazine!?_ He could practically feel it burning a hole through his waistband.

"We cannot afford to have Eblan's traditional ninja arts fade away into history, Master," Gekkou frowned. "We understand that as king, you have more important things to focus on – we just want to do our part to keep our kingdom's legacy alive."

"Don't you think we'd be better off without these lethal weapons we call arts?" Edge arched an eyebrow. "In a world where we can now be free to be anything, do we _really_ want to be best known as assassins?" Increasingly, but not yet overwhelmingly, more of the kingdom's citizens were no longer actively practicing ninjitsu or pursuing a way of life that would have kept them solely in Eblan from birth until death – something Edge unabashedly celebrated, even though the shift in culture had drawn some criticism from the realm.

Slowly and guardedly since he had inherited his title, Edge had introduced the concept of a more global Eblan to his people, inspired by the bonds he had forged with the fearless Baronians he had traveled to the moon with, Rydia of Mist, and the others around the world he had come to know thanks to Cecil. At first there had been _aggressive_ pushback – Eblan had been isolated from the rest of the world for as long as anyone still alive after Rubicante's assault could remember, and they would tell you that they had been doing just fine. But having a youthful, and some would say a rather charismatically impulsive, king on the throne had done a lot to sway the hearts of the younger citizens who had been instrumental in reviving Eblan and who had experienced first-hand the benefit of having allies around the globe to help restore the kingdom's fortunes.

And the rest of the world had become more curious about Eblan as well – so despite some of those younger citizens growing up and starting a life elsewhere, now finally feeling free enough to do so, many immigrants were anxious to take their place, lured by the concept of starting over after the war in a "forgotten" land – and Edge felt Eblan had become only stronger for it.

Izayoi approached Edge, her arms folded underneath what he had always appreciated from afar as a blessedly endowed chest. "But your arts can be used for far more than the taking of someone's life, Master. As long as we have yet to meet our full potential, we must continue to strive for the limits of human ability! Only by evolving can future generations hope to thrive long after we are gone – just as you have become as strong, if not stronger than your late parents – someday your children will surpass you as well."

Edge narrowed his granite-flecked blue eyes, hoping it would deflect from the blush he started to feel crawling up his cheek. _Children…ha! That ship had sailed long, long ago_. "Maybe if the times called for that, but we're living in an era of peace. So why work so hard at this? Wouldn't you rather have some fun with your lives?" Izayoi pouted, and Edge raised his hand, lightly running his thumb over her dirt-streaked cheek as he locked onto her ice-blue stare. " _Especially_ a woman your age, I might add." She turned bright red, and Tsukinowa snickered behind her.

"Ah, our wise master understands even a woman's heart."

"You little brat…!" Izayoi shrieked, spinning away from Edge's grasp and diving on top of her tiny cousin. Tsukinowa screamed, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as Izayoi pinned him to the ground with her thighs and started tickling him mercilessly. Gekkou and Zangetsu both clasped their hands to their mouths, trying not to burst into laughter, and even Edge couldn't help but snicker underneath his cowl.

 _This is what things are supposed to be like…each of you have dedicated your entire lives to Eblan with so little in return – I still feel so selfish, as much as I've tried to make things better for you – for everyone – since our home was destroyed seventeen years ago. Why can't you let the past go and just try to enjoy life for what it is?_

 _Izayoi – A beautiful young woman like yourself should have the pick of the kingdom's finest men, falling all over themselves just for you to gift them with a passing glance._

 _Tsukinowa – You're just a boy – only fifteen years old, and the first child born after disaster struck Eblan – you've known nothing but peace, yet you've become an even stronger warrior than I was at your age, and have the ever-darkening shadows in your eyes to prove it._

 _Zangetsu – You should be enjoying your twilight years, sitting on the patio with Seneschal and complaining about what a pain in the ass all these young people are, not breaking your back to continue the ninjitsu training your son never got to finish…_

 _And Gekkou…the Eblan Four's tireless leader...you always smile through your pain and even when I inadvertently belittle your dream to keep the ninja arts alive…when was the last time you did anything for yourself?_

Edge pressed his lips together, closing his eyes. _Of course, I should probably take my own advice…but I've always been a hypocrite, haven't I? There are just some things…and people…I can't seem to make myself ever forget, that keep me chained to the past…_

Tsukinowa gasped for breath, trying to choke out a cry for mercy when his gaze suddenly froze on the skies above, the blood draining from his face. Izayoi blinked, pausing with her hands buried in his armpits.

"What is it, Tsukinowa?" Zangetsu asked gently. But the boy could not bring himself to reply – his voice cracked with the effort before he gave up.

Edge followed Tsukinowa's gaze upward. For a moment, he thought he was seeing double – which was entirely possible with the amount he had drunk last night. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and took another look. "What the..!?"

The moon, which had reached its fullest phase just last night and was still visible in the dawn, had been joined by a _second_ moon – a perfect orb as white as an exhumed skull, unyielding in its brilliance as it cast a burgeoning shadow over its twin.

* * *

The Seneschal removed his stocking cap, fanning himself with it as he shook his head. "That dreadful moon has returned! Oh, what is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, calm down, old man," Edge drawled, burying his head in his hands as if to physically block out any more whining. How could he possibly _think_ with all of this racket? With the way Seneschal was fretting about, it sounded as if a thousand puttering old men were marching through the throne room in their morning slippers. He dug his fingers into his silver hair to keep it from flopping into his eyes, groaning audibly. Perhaps it had been his mistake to say anything – but as soon as he and his disciples (as they liked to call themselves) had recovered from the shock of their discovery, he had dismissed them and found his feet whisking him away to the throne room, where he knew the Seneschal would have been waiting after figuring out that Edge had escaped from his bedroom in the middle of his tirade. Before he could stop himself, the sordid discovery was pouring out of his mouth, and then had commenced the panic.

Seneschal, as Edge had always (sometimes with affection, but mostly with disdain) called him because he had never comprehended as a child that the man had an actual name, approached the throne, his hands on his hips. "How could one possibly stay calm at a time like this!?" Edge glared up at him through his fingers, snorting.

"If you _don't,_ you'll give yourself a heart attack. Then who would pester me?"

" _Your Young Highness!_ "

"See? You know I hate it when you call me that. I'm forty-three, for gods' sake!"

"I could hardly imagine calling you anything else, Young Highness! And now that Eblan finally got itself back on its feet, this moon again rears its ugly head…I fear this may not be the only specter from the past that we will see once again…" Seneschal moaned and began another round of hurried pacing.

"Enough," Edge muttered, dropping his hands and letting his locks fall over his face like a curtain.

"Your Young Highness..."

Edge stood from the throne, his hands on his hips and his mouth pressed in a thin line. "Seneschal, what would our soldiers and citizens think if they saw you like this?"

Seneschal paused mid-step, his eyes shifting away guiltily from Edge's as he clutched his cap. "I apologize, my lord. I bow before your wisdom…" He shook his head. "…You are truly the son of our late beloved ruler and queen…that sounds exactly like something they would have said."

Edge stared at him for a couple beats, his tongue pressed against his teeth. It was with muted terror that he realized when he tried to play what he had said back in his mind using his parents' voices, nothing happened – he was struggling more and more nowadays to remember what they had sounded like when they had been alive, along with other little things – like the way his mom's ruby lips would twist when she was trying not to laugh at something stupid he had done that she felt the need to lecture him for, or the way his dad's eyes exploded with fireworks when Edge would catch him stealing a glance at his bride-turned-queen, whom he had never spent an hour in his life not being in love with since the day they had met.

"Right. Watch the castle for me." Edge strode toward the throne room doors, and the Seneschal frowned.

"Your Young Highness! Where are you going?"

Edge didn't turn around, but he did pause in the threshold. "Off on a bit of business."

"At a time like this!?"

"Mm-hmm. So watch the castle for me, all right?"

"Please...please don't do anything reckless, your Young Highness! Whatever you are planning, you don't have to do it by yourself, you know…!"

Edge looked down to the floor, which was comprised of dent-ridden, dusty bamboo slabs. Seventeen years had sure taken a toll on their luster – he couldn't remember his parents' voices, but he could still perfectly picture the gaping, incinerated pit that had formed in this very spot when Rubicante had scorched their castle and village, wiping out three-quarters of their population in mere minutes. He had been arguing with his mother in the throne room about something arbitrary when the ceiling above had collapsed in flames, crashing through the floor mere feet away from his mother's throne.

He issued a final order before leaving. "Stop worrying so. It's not good for your heart, or my ears."

Marching back out the way he had come, Edge slid his cowl back over his mouth and nose as he stepped back out into the desert air, which had already heated up several degrees. He spotted a thick shadow looming to his left, and heard a voice call out from above.

"Where might you be going?"

Gekkou leapt from the roof of the castle gateway, bushy black eyebrows raised over his permanently sleepy gaze.

"Gekkou..." Edge blinked.

Zangetsu joined them, wincing slightly as he landed harder than perhaps his knees appreciated – Edge swore he heard the grinding of the elderly ninja's very bones. "If there is something..."

"...that needs to be done..." Izayoi materialized at Edge's side, her eyes wide and questioning.

Tsukinowa popped up on Izayoi's shoulder, his hands encircling her neck as he pushed his head past her waterfall of hair. "...then please, allow us to handle it!"

Edge laughed nervously, scratching his head. "What do you mean?"

"You intend to investigate the return of the second moon by yourself, do you not?" Zangetsu smiled knowingly, and Edge forced out another laugh, which sounded more like a choking donkey.

"The moon is causing severe unrest within Eblan as we speak," Gekkou frowned. "Everyone I've spoken with is scared, Your Highness."

"Please make use of us if there is a need for reconnaissance," Izayoi added.

"What're you talking about?" Edge asked innocently, which came off as convincing as a cat surrounded by scattered bird feathers. "I'm not doing anything like that."

Tsukinowa jumped down from Izayoi's shoulders and wagged his finger. "Master, I know this will displease you to hear, but Seneschal is right! You always try to bear all the burden by yourself!" Edge reddened. So, Tsukinowa had already been doing a little reconnaissance of his own in the throne room – and he hadn't even sensed the boy's presence. He really _was_ slipping.

Izayoi clasped her hands together. "Please, Master! Let the four of us share that burden! This is what we have been training for, after all."

Edge turned away from the four of them, snorting under his breath. "I have yet to decide whether any of you are _ready_ for such a mission."

"Then let this mission be a test of our readiness!" Tsukinowa cried, gently tugging on Edge's sleeve. "You would know for sure then, right…?"

Zangetsu rested his hands on Tsukinowa's shoulders. "Besides, we can ill afford to have our leader away from his kingdom right now. Your people need you, Your Highness."

Edge pressed his lips together, still refusing to look at any of their pleading faces. _None of us know or understand what this moon is all about…If I put them in any danger, how could I ever forgive myself? I promised when I took the throne that Eblan would never again suffer another catastrophe like seventeen years ago. The day Rubicante smoked us out of our home like rats and destroyed everything – I still had no idea the true hell that awaited us just steps away in that damned tower. If it wasn't for Cecil, Rosa, Rydia…and yes, even that bastard Kain, I wouldn't be here today. So how can I ask these four to possibly embark on a journey that may wind up going down that same dark path?_

 _A king is replaceable…they would surely understand that if they were in my shoes. I have always known that there are better-suited men for this position than I that could lead Eblan to prosperity if I were to go absent. But their dreams, their hopes, their aspirations for the future…? Those are what makes up Eblan's lifeblood – not ninjitsu, not an elite clan…not a mere figurehead like me. Those are what we must always protect, no matter the price._

"I already asked the Seneschal and the rest to handle my affairs," Edge finally said quietly.

"It may be my overreaching on my part, but the return of the twin moon might indicate that It may not be long before that tower is set in motion again, my lord," Zangetsu frowned, and Edge involuntarily shivered, closing his eyes.

"That tower..."

 _Mom…Dad...the horrors of the Tower of Babil stole you away from me…and none of us had known that the silent monolith we were guarding with our lives contained the gateway that made our planet vulnerable to intergalactic devastation. And just a year after I lost you, it tried to take Cecil, the twins, and Rydia too…_

 _…I'll do whatever it takes to see that it is never activated again…perhaps the further I can send these four away from it, the safer they will be._

After a few minutes of silence, feeling four pairs of eyes bore into him like daggers, Edge turned around to meet their stares. "All right. You're on."

Tsukinowa jumped in the air, pumping his fists. "I knew you would understand, Master!"

Izayoi bent to one knee, lowering her head. "Your orders, then, sir."

"Let's get one thing clear first," Edge warned, and Gekkou stood next to Izayoi protectively, a rare sulk settled into his features.

"What would that be?"

"Don't throw your lives away in vain. They are too _valuable_ to waste."

"Yes, Master!" the four of them chanted in unison, bowing their heads.

Edge tugged his cowl down beneath his chin, letting out a quiet sigh. His glance flicked from Gekkou to Zangetsu, Izayoi, and finally Tsukinowa, who was still grinning even through his bow.

"Gekkou…you said you spoke with some others in the castle. What did you find out?"

Gekkou turned his weary crimson eyes upon Edge. "Most people are just very confused, Your Highness. I did hear an interesting comment from one of the guards who was just coming off his shift from last night – he said he saw a shooting star in the northeastern sky."

"Northeastern?" Edge blinked. "Toward Baron?"

"Even further, allegedly," Gekkou crossed his arms. "He reckoned it could have been as far as Damcyan."

"That _is_ Interesting," Edge tilted his head toward the sky, catching another glance at the moons. "We may want to see if Damcyan or Fabul are impacted…Gekkou, as the one who has the most combat experience out of the four of you, I want you to travel between the two kingdoms and see what they are up to – Mount Hobs is littered with the undead, and you would have the greatest advantage with your fire ninjitsu. It's been a while since we've checked up on our northern neighbors and their crystals anyway."

"Yes, sir," Gekkou nodded, bowing. Edge turned next to Zangetsu.

"Zangetsu. I want you to travel to the underworld and observe the dwarven settlement located at King Giott's castle – you can check on the Crystal of Darkness that resides there and see if anything unusual has happened similarly to the shooting star on the surface world. A few months ago, the dwarves discovered a mineral vein in what had been an abandoned mine that they opened up again. We should be able to access that mine from the mountains just north of the castle and you can make your way to Giott's territory from there."

"Consider it done," Zangetsu bowed.

"Izayoi."

"Yes?" She piped up.

"I need you to infiltrate Troia and check on the status of the Crystal of Earth. I've also heard some rumors that one of their Epopts has fallen ill…I would be interested in learning if they have found a suitable replacement yet. You would be the least suspicious if you were to go."

"Very well, Master Edge," she nodded, although her voice carried a tinge of disappointment. Edge had noticed, but couldn't bring himself to say any more for the moment.

"That leaves the Crystal of Water, right?" Tsukinowa smiled. "Does this mean I get to go back to Mysidia!?"

Edge nodded. "Yes – but remember, you have to take on your identity as a mage while you are there. You've done well so far with establishing your fake persona, but you'll need to come up with an alibi for why you haven't been around for so long."

"Don't worry, I'll think of something clever," Tsukinowa broke into a huge grin, whispering to himself breathlessly. "And I'll get to see _her_ again…"

"Who?" Izayoi smirked, and Tsukinowa jumped, turning pink.

"Er…no one…!"

"Wait here," Edge instructed. "I'll be right back." He swiftly walked back into the castle, making a right from the courtyard and approaching the provisions shop that was tucked into a corner, walled off by curtains of purple and violet Chinese wisteria that had invaded years ago during the restoration effort and now exploded into grapevine-like blooms every spring.

"What will it be today, Your Highness?" the shop keep asked, a young man whom Edge knew spent long nights patrolling the desolate Eblanese desert as part of a small group of castle guards who hunted monsters, and then spent his days manning his merchant family's shop. He didn't really understand when the man actually slept, but then again, the days of his youth where he had been able to once do the same thing were long, long behind him, so he supposed he didn't need to understand anymore.

"I need Teleport Stones," Edge impatiently tapped his fingers on the polished oak counter. "Have we gotten any in?"

"Mmm…" the man turned, stretching up on his toes as he reached to one of the higher shelves behind him. "Only looks like I have four. There's been a run on magical items lately."

"I'll take whatever you have," Edge dug into his pockets, but only retrieved a few lint balls and a cork from a champagne bottle. The shop keep raised his eyebrows.

"Shall I put it on your tab, Your Highness?"

"Yeah…that would be good," Edge sighed, shoving his treasures back in his pocket. "I will be paying that soon, by the way. I heard we had good luck in the market and got quite a few items sold."

"I'm happy to help out when I can, Your Highness," he smiled, sliding the dark gray, polished stones over the counter. "All things considered with this moon people have been whispering about, I'm not worried about it."

Edge pocketed the stones, silently thanking the gods for his people's tendency to lean toward discretion in their dealings, and walking back outside to the castle gates. His disciples looked up at him anxiously, and he produced the stones.

"Time is of the essence – I need each of you to reach your destinations as soon as possible _and_ make it home safely. These stones are blessed with the white magic spell Teleport, and will take you to anywhere you want as long as you can picture it clearly in your mind. You can only cast the spell a few times before the mana wears out – so use with caution."

"Thank you, Master," Zangetsu said, taking the first stone. "Unfortunately, having never been to the Underworld before, I will need to make my way there by foot, but rest assured I will use this to escape the moment I have secured the information you desire."

"Aren't these expensive?" Tsukinowa blinked as he took his, and Izayoi gave his ponytail another tug.

"Honestly…!"

After the stones had been distributed and safely deposited in various pockets and pouches, Edge crossed his arms over his chest and gave the Eblan Four one last appraisal. There was a spark of excitement in the air – although it was entirely surrounding his disciples. All _he_ could feel was an increasing despair curling around in his gut like the icy fog that protected the Village Mist.

"Remember what I said – do not be so anxious to prove yourselves that you put yourself in mortal danger. You're no good to me – or Eblan – dead."

 _In the far western expanses of the desert, Edge could feel the tower watching them…_

* * *

 _Zangetsu's Tale | Mourning Moon_

"Did you hear the rumor, Lali?"

"About the tower?"

"Yep…a watchman outside said it was glowing, just for a second. Got the king all riled up, but no one has seen it light up again since. Now they're saying he was still perhaps a bit tipsy yet from the night before."

"Quiet…he's coming!"

The dwarves' raucous conversation dulled as the throne room doors opened, and their king appeared in the threshold, ever-resplendent in his massive Viking horn helmet that added two feet to his sturdy frame. They all snapped to attention, heads raised and arms to their sides as Giott peered over each of them with unblinking yellow eyes.

"Another quiet, peaceful day, my men! I wouldn't wish it any other way!"

One of the dwarves leaned to his right, his whisper muffled by massive beard of orange braids and curls. "I guess the king dismissed the rumor about the tower."

"Shhh!" the dwarf next to him replied nervously, feeling a large bead of sweat trickle down his temple. The last thing he wanted was King Giott's – or anyone else's – attention. He reached up, casually scratching at his beard in an attempt to mask his discontent and relishing in the sweet relief of what had felt like a forbidden act – the wiry hair had the same sensation as an itchy, healing, wound that was spread all over his face. The dwarf who had whispered to him raised one tufted brow, but said no more and turned his attention back to the front.

If King Giott had noticed anything amiss, he didn't give it away – he was too busy puffing his chest and traipsing down the line of dwarves, his purple robes swirling around him like churning waves of magma as his hands animatedly fluttered in the air. "We would never have earned this peace if it weren't for the hard work put in by all of you. Indeed, great were the causalities we suffered in that costly War of the Crystals. But we strove on! Yes, we soldiered on through the heartache, and..."

"Lali-ho, here he goes again," another dwarf muttered.

"Once he gets started, the king doesn't know when to stop."

"I swear, this is the same speech he gave when the war ended seventeen years ago, and he's just never bothered to memorize a new one since."

"…Regardless, to all of you, I offer my congratulations on another day's work well done. Now it is time to rest for the day yet to come! Make sure _not to overindulge_ this evening!" He gave a wave, turning to make his way back into the throne room.

"Lali-ho!" the dwarves all cheered, and leapt into the air simultaneously to do a spinning jump – this could only be best described to those who had yet to witness such a spectacle as the dwarven version of a high-five. But the nervous dwarf on the far right of the queue leapt too late, his arms flailing as he landed back on the stone floor clumsily, an awful cracking noise ringing out in the grand hall.

The three other dwarves that were in the queue with him turned in panic, their mouths agape as the doors slammed behind King Giott. The short-jumper blushed fiercely – not that you could tell under the oversized helmet that was casting obsidian shadows over the parts of his face not already concealed by unruly red facial hair.

"You all right?" one of the dwarves blinked. "That wasn't much of a jump!"

"Er…" the dwarf nodded, climbing back to his feet and giving it one more go. This time, the jump was executed perfectly – he even gave a little bow when he had landed. "Of course I am. Guess I was just enraptured by His Highness' speech. Tali-ho!"

"What?"

"Um... _Lali-ho_!"

The three dwarves glanced at each other concernedly before turning back to him. "Lali-ho, indeed! A dwarf is nothing if he can't jump high. You needa take better care of your legs, especially if you're going to be patrolling with us from now on! Maybe you should go to the infirmary and see a nurse."

"No, no, I'm fine!" The fourth dwarf laughed, trying to resist the temptation to reach up and violently rake his nails across his scratchy beard. _I can't take much more of this!_

The other dwarves shrugged. "Well, our work is done! Off to the pub for some rest and relaxation! If you're up to it, you should join us, newbie. You'll find the pub upstairs on the right. It's down the corridor between the weapon smith and armorer!"

"Lali-ho, I'll be there!" the dwarf nodded, and watched as the other three departed. Although the room was still crowded with other dwarves coming and going – he had figured out rather quickly that this chamber was the crossroads of the castle – he finally felt anonymous enough to give in to his urges.

 _Scritch-scritch-scritch!_

 _Ahhh..._ He lowered his hands from his face, sighing happily under his breath. _That's better…now, to see to the crystal._

Reaching up to adjust his slumping helmet, he teetered toward the throne room, where two dwarven guards nodded to him and opened the doors.

Inside, King Giott was, much to the dwarf's relief and surprise, passed out in his throne. He was slumped backward, his mouth wide-open as his snores ripped through the otherwise peaceful chamber. His daughter, Crown Princess Luca, was sitting cross-legged on the floor in a bubblegum pink shop suit, a bobby pin sticking out of her lips as she gingerly ran a boar bristle brush through what appeared to be a life-sized doll's cascading yellow curls. As soon as she had heard the newcomer's footsteps, she glanced up, pulling the pin out from between her lips and sliding it into a lock of the doll's hair.

"Whatever you do, don't touch these dolls. Try it, and you'll pay!" she warned. The dwarf scuttled back a few inches even though he had had no intention of approaching her in the first place, nodding hastily.

 _She reminds me a little bit of Master Edge…only with his special books instead of dolls._

Another guard that was standing to the rear of Giott's throne offered a smile in Luca's stead.

"Come to pray to the crystal, have you? It's really nice to see a dwarf with respect nowadays!"

Before he could reply in the affirmative, the guard hit a switch behind him, and a hidden door in the alabaster brick wall swung open, unleashing a spill of light from the mirrored chamber it had been concealing.

"Well, go on then! I'll close the door after you so you can have some privacy."

Stepping inside, the dwarf heard the door grind back shut behind him as he narrowed his eyes in an attempt to adjust to the dazzling light that was igniting the chamber before him. Shining on the dais at the top of a short set of stairs was the amber-stained crystal of darkness, or at least one of four that resided in King Giott's domain. He watched amusedly as his reflection glittered back at him, not revealing the visage of a dwarf recently transferred from the mines to foot patrol at the castle, but rather an elderly human with shining onyx eyes and a much tamer and whiter snippet of a goatee.

 _I've never seen a crystal before…how fascinating that even its holy light can see through the deceit of our arts._

Zangetsu lowered his shoulders, finally feeling for the first time since he donned his disguise that he could relax. By his estimate, he had been in Giott's kingdom for nearly twelve hours, although to him, it had felt like days. He had made his way through the Eblan mountains and found the hidden path that he could take to the dwarves' mine with little trouble. Once he had spotted his first dwarf hacking away at a deposit of ore, he cast a ninjitsu spell called _Illusions_ to mimic the miner's look, although he hadn't gotten it quite perfect – his clothes were mostly too big and his facial hair was so bushy that he had to cut some of it back with his spear just to see properly. Still, he was mildly confident that it would have received a passing grade from Izayoi, who had been the one to teach the spell to him.

He had nonchalantly "bumped" into the miner, making up what he had hoped was a not too outrageous-sounding claim that he had reported to the mines for work that morning but had been reassigned to the castle and was not sure how to make his way there. Before he knew it, he had been dropped off at Giott's castle and had been taken in by the group he had spent the rest of the day with, hunting monsters during the low tide of the magma that boiled all around them. He had not needed to do much to gain acceptance – his awkward mannerisms and stilted speech simply gave the dwarves the impression that he had been transplanted from some backwater village.

During his outing, he had not noticed anything unusual – or at least, nothing that he thought was unusual for residents of the Underworld. The concept of not being able to see the sky and having magma act as a sun was completely foreign to Zangetsu, but his fellow dwarves had not seemed to think anything was amiss – there were no talks of shooting stars or other phenomena that plagued the surface world, and monsters were apparently still a common enough occurrence that their presence was not suspicious.

And now he had confirmed that the crystal was safe and sound – but the rumor that had been spilled just a few minutes ago before King Giott had come out to greet them was troubling.

 _I need to find the dwarf that saw the Tower of Babil glow. If he's known for his love of drink, he may just be in the pub with the others._

* * *

Despite following what he thought were the correct directions to the pub, Zangetsu became helplessly disoriented and once again fell to the mercy of a stranger, although he supposed that just helped solidify his facade that he was a country bumpkin lost in the big city. After being escorted to the pub, he stepped inside and instantly regretted his idea to find the dwarf who started the tower rumors.

The pub was packed to the gills with so many dancing, drunken dwarves that he had no idea where to start, with loud accordion music blasting from the bar top where a dwarf that had to be at least four-hundred pounds was jigging thunderously while playing his instrument.

 _Half of the kingdom must be here getting toasted,_ Zangetsu frowned. _No one is going to have any idea what I am talking about if I ask about the tower's glow. I'm just going to have to find it and see what is going on for myself._

A dwarf that was swaying to the music, both of his hands clutching dangerously overfilled mugs that splashed ale on Zangetsu's boots leaned in, grinning. "Mmm? What? Looking for some fun?"

"Er…" Zangetsu's eyes darted, panicked, around the room. _Perhaps Master Edge should have taken the Underworld instead of I…this is much more his scene!_ "…Where are the watchmen stationed that can best see the Tower of Babil?"

The dwarf hiccupped, taking a long, draining sip from his glass before replying. "Yeah, you're right, the watchmen should be here too! Why don't you go fetch them and lali-ho it up a bit, huh? They should be on the roof – they're probably sobered up by now!"

"…Sure!" Zangetsu nodded, bowing his head quickly. "Thank you! I mean…lali-ho!"

"Lali-ho!" the dwarf cheered, and a chorus of "lali-hos" erupted behind Zangetsu as all of the patrons raised their glasses to their mouths and began to chug.

Zangetsu backed out of the pub, a fake smile plastered onto his face as he asked for directions from the weapon smith to the roof outlook. When he finally made his way back outside, he was shocked at how much cooler it felt, despite the fact that he was still underground and surrounded by a bubbling ocean of magma in every direction. The pub must had been absolutely sweltering with the heat of all the bodies that had been stuffed inside it – Zangetsu felt his beard itching again and pools of sweat starting to form inside his heavy dwarven armor. He would not have been surprised if he appeared to be leaking as he walked.

Two dwarves were quietly standing guard on each end of the rooftop, which was really just a forged-iron balcony that had been erected between the two tallest towers of the castle, reachable by a single flight of stairs. As Zangetsu began to climb up, he heard the dwarves shout in surprise – one of them even dropped their crescent axe, which he could hear rattle as it hit the floor.

"The Tower of Babil!"

"What is it?!" Zangetsu cried, racing up the rest of the stairs and skidding to a stop between the two guards. Wordlessly, they pointed ahead toward the far north, where the Underworld portion of the Tower of Babil was situated against the glowing yellow and orange, magma-encrusted mountainside. Undoubtedly, the tower was illuminated – pulsing a furious red that brightened and faded like the rhythmic beat of a heart.

"The rumors were true! We must inform the king at once!"

Zangetsu pressed his hand to his mouth, shaking his head as he muttered against his fingers. "It's finally begun! As I feared…the moon is a precursor to the tower activating once more…"

The two watchmen whirled around, just now remembering that they weren't alone, and each shot Zangetsu a funny look.

"Hey you! What are you waiting for? Go report, now!"

Zangetsu shook his head, suddenly leaping to the parapet positioned in front of the two dwarves and giving a regretful wave as he glanced back at them over his shoulder. "Sorry, but my job here is done. You'll need to report to King Giott yourself."

"Huh!?" One of the dwarves cried. "W-Wait a sec!"

Zangetsu smiled gently and leapt again, flying over the side of the castle and disappearing from sight. The two guards rushed over to the ledge, blinking as they looked at each other.

" _Wow!_ What a jump!"

* * *

 _I need to get out of sight – once I get to a safe spot, I can use the Teleport Stone Master gave me and be on my way back home. I must inform him about the tower immediately…_

Resting momentarily at the top of a massive tor that the main drag from the mine to the castle had been plowed around, Zangetsu rested his right fist over his left, extending his right index and middle fingers as he closed his eyes and reversed the Illusions spell. In a flash of light, his cumbersome dwarven armor and copious amounts of body hair had melted away, changing him back to his lithe, non-itch inducing self. Grasping the sides of his yellow cloak, he launched himself back into the air, gliding effortlessly across the landscape, his cloak inflated to turn him into a human kite.

As he floated over the entrance to the mine, he spotted a dwarf emerging from its depths, his equipment slung over his back as he whistled cheerfully and painfully out of tune. Zangetsu tilted to the left, trying to avoid having his shadow drift over the lone dwarf so that he could sail by unnoticed. But a sudden current of hot wind rose from the magma, throwing him off course and sending him crashing into a cliff above the mine's entrance.

"Oof!" Zangetsu groaned, managing to shield his face with his arms just before he dropped to the cliff's edge. The dwarf continued on his way, his obnoxious whistling blocking out Zangetsu's whimpers. The ninja dragged himself to his feet, pushing his hair back from his face and inhaling deeply.

"Ah, my back...That was higher than I thought."

He reached into the hidden pocket of his leggings, fetching the Teleport Stone and gently rolling it between his fingers. _I need to concentrate on the location I want to arrive at…think of Eblan…think of home…_ He closed his eyes, touching his chin to his chest as he trapped the Teleport Stone between his folded hands. He could feel flecks of ash and ember dance over his skin as another gust of wind rushed over his body, sending his cloak fluttering behind him. It was hot…unbearably so – he felt as if he were about to spontaneously combust.

 _"…Dad! Watch out!"_

His eyes snapped back open, and he realized he had been holding his breath when he felt an intense burn spread in his lungs. Exhaling sharply, he reached up, brushing his fingers over his dampened cheek.

 _Rai…it's been seventeen years…but I still can't think of Eblan without dreaming that you'll be back home, waiting for me…_

 _It should have been you on this mission for Master Edge...it should have been you living your lifelong ambition of serving Eblan as a ninja and as a member of the Eblan Four – but now I can only serve as your lesser substitute – so that your sacrifice for me will never be in vain._

"HELP!"

Zangetsu gasped, instinctively reaching for his spear as he turned. Circling the poor dwarf that had been trying to make his way home was a Belphegor, and the Elder of the Eblan Four could see its bloodthirsty scowl all the way from where he was stationed above the mine as he watched it extend its claws. The creature had been nothing like what he and the other dwarves had fought on patrol and was something he would have expected instead to see deep within the mountainous regions of Eblan – something was horribly wrong if one had ended up all the way down here.

"Ahhh!" The dwarf screamed, falling face-first as he scrambled to protect his head, his mining tools scattering from his knapsack as the Belphegor dove in for the kill. Zangetsu clenched his jaw, lowering his hand. Even he would have trouble impaling the Belphegor without hurting the dwarf – he feared he wouldn't be able to pull up in time to retract his weapon.

 _It will have to be magic. Rai…if you can see this…please lend me your strength!_ Zangetsu closed his eyes, pressing his index fingers together as he whispered a foreign incantation under his breath. In the distance, a peal of thunder erupted, and both the dwarf and monster looked up to the sky in confusion as the Underworld plunged into darkness.

* * *

 _Eblan, 17 years prior_

Zangetsu was pinned under a pile of rubble that had suddenly collapsed upon him, raining down in dust-ridden chunks from what had once been the ceiling of the castle inn. He had been waiting impatiently, both his and Rai's drinks already ordered – his son would be home any minute from his first trial mission with the royal guard – and there had been no doubt in his mind that they would be celebrating Rai's acceptance – he just had a feeling.

But then a cacophony of screams had rung out, and before Zangetsu could flee from his seat to see what had happened, a mass of flame had burst through the window he had been facing, sending shards of glass slicing through the air like shuriken. It was a Flamebeast, but not one of normal size that you would occasionally catch stalking through the Eblanese Desert – it was enhanced in both strength and girth by something darkly powerful – he could feel its energy consuming every last atom of oxygen in the room, despite the gaping hole it had just torn asunder in the castle walls.

That had been when a terrific crash echoed above, and the ceiling collapsed upon him. His knees and legs crushed, Zangetsu could only watch in terror as the Flamebeast approached, raising its paw to deal the final blow to his head. The heat looming over him was so intense that he could feel the skin on his face bursting into charred blisters.

"Dad! Watch out!"

"Rai!"

His son had materialized from the hole in the ceiling, landing between him and the monster and thrusting his spear into the beast's shoulder in an attempt to distract it as he turned to quickly start lifting away the rubble.

"Get out of here!" Rai cried, shoving off the final slab of rock that had pinned him down. Zangetsu shakily rose to his feet, even though he could feel the swelling throb of torn and sprained muscles straining to support even his slight weight.

"Come with me!"

"Dad, I can't…! The castle is not lost yet…I have to try to fight back!"

The Flamebeast lunged forward, wrapping its jaws around Rai's left arm as he roughly pushed his father away. There were screams – although Zangetsu could not be sure from whom they were erupting – and he felt a pair of hands lift him away as his legs finally gave in to their subjugation.

 _When he next opened his eyes, he had been lain out on the floor of the Cave of Eblan – and Rai was gone, forever. The guards that had rescued Zangetsu presented him with Rai's spear – it was all they had been able to recover from the wreckage when the fire had finally burned out days later._

* * *

A shower of lightning detonated above the Belphegor, tearing through its scaly flesh and frying it to dust. The dwarf screamed, scrambling out of the way of the corpse's falling ashes as he bolted toward the castle, wisely abandoning his tools. Zangetsu closed his eyes, a small smile of relief curling over his lips.

 _Thank you, my son…even now, you continue to watch over me._

He glanced down at the Teleport Stone still clutched in his hand. _I have no time left to spare! I'm coming, Master!_

He tried to invoke a vision of Eblan once more – this time, he recalled his memory from just that morning, when he, Izayoi, Tsukinowa and Gekkou had been laughing outside the castle gates, a rare smile on Master Edge's lips that he knew was there even with his cowl on; for it had reached all the way to his eyes. Master Edge had always reminded him of Rai – not so much in demeanor or looks, and not even that they would have been the same age had Rai lived. It was the fires of determination that he knew tempered their very souls and came to life in their gaze – when he looked into Master Edge's eyes, it was like Rai was staring back at him from beyond the grave.

In a flash of divine light, Zangetsu disappeared.

* * *

 _Gekkou's Tale | Moonlight's Requiem_

Twilight had begun to settle in when Gekkou was able to finally approach the impact site of the falling star – or, more appropriately and perhaps less romantically, as he had come to think of it – the meteor.

Earlier in the day, he had started out in Damcyan to check on the Crystal of Fire and had crossed Mount Hobs to then do the same for the Crystal of Wind, both of which appeared to be safe. In both kingdoms, he had picked up on rumors that various envoys had been sent to investigate the meteor – namely, King Edward's secretary and a company of King Yang's high monks. Wanting to avoid running into either group and risk any questions being asked of Eblan, Gekkou had busied himself throughout the day with the welfare of the crystals, figuring both kingdoms' investigations would end at nightfall.

As Gekkou traveled across Mount Hobs for what would be the final time to approach the meteor impact site from the Fabulian territory side, hazy, darkened clouds stretched over the sky, robbing him of the moonlight that would have helped him otherwise stumble through the southern mountain path. Gekkou reached up, snapping a dead branch off of a tree and igniting it with a Flame spell as a makeshift torch – he figured if anyone had been around, they would have seen him by now anyway – there was no point in taking an accidental mid-air plunge over an unseen cliff.

"I wonder if Master Edge remembers our time in the mountains together," Gekkou mused out loud. Of course, no one answered him – there was only a low hiss of wind, barely audible over Gekkou's calloused feet crunching the rocks on the pathway to dust.

The memory in question had been from when he and Edge had been teenagers – not many people knew, since Edge had always been ridiculously immature for his age, but the two of them had only been born days apart, and as a result, spent most of their childhood training and schooling together. Even now, if one were to speak both to Gekkou and Edge, they would conclude by both looks and poise that Gekkou was surely much older – but the truth was, Edge had him beat out by a mere seventy-two hours.

As a kid, Gekkou had disliked having anything to do with Edge – he never paid attention to their instructor, was constantly pulling pranks that distracted them from actually learning anything, and perhaps most infuriatingly, got away with it all just because he just happened to be born a prince and had an abnormally strong gift for the ninjitsu arts at a young age that fascinated everyone. In turn, Edge thought Gekkou was the living definition of mediocracy and a stick in the mud, and was never afraid to advertise such a fact to the rest of their peers. Gekkou learned quickly that even if you weren't saying the right things, people would still line up to hear them if the messenger was provocative enough – so Edge was fairly efficient at quickly turning the rest of their class against Gekkou and making his life a living hell.

But then the night had come of their first milestone of many to determine which of their class would continue on their journey to mastering the Eblanese arts. Their instructor and master had randomly drawn their names to conduct their trails in pairs – and being born under what was probably the unluckiest star in the history of the universe, Gekkou was paired with Edge. They were to journey north with their partners to the Eblan Mountains, an unsettled portion of their continent that was rumored to be filled with fierce beasts and even ghosts – and conduct what their master had called a test of courage…

Gekkou was shaken out of his reverie as he came upon a vista he had rushed past earlier in an effort to get to Fabul as quickly as possible – now that he had returned, he could take advantage of the adequate view of the crater the vista offered. Crossing his arms over his chest, Gekkou quietly observed that a thick, purple mist had begun to blanket the meadow that the meteor had smashed into – the few slivers of moonlight that managed to pierce the nighttime clouds reflected off the opaque fog, giving the entire valley below an eerie, prismatic sheen.

 _It's a scene straight out of a nightmare!_ Gekkou frowned. A rotting stench had lifted up into the air as well – it smelled like a combination of spoiled meat and festering waste. _And this putrid air...it's as if the earth itself is diseased. It's got to be coming from that mist…or whatever that is. I don't even want to imagine what would've happened had this meteor struck a town..._

He had begun debating with himself how much closer he should get when he spotted what appeared to be five figures – from his vantage point, they were mere black specks – rising and falling within the rolling mist. Moments later, a burst of light erupted from within the crater – like lightning detonating behind a storm cloud.

"Ah!" Gekkou blinked, clenching his fists. "There's _still_ someone…or something…inside…" He could feel the Teleport Stone, warm and smooth, against his thigh in his pocket. "What could anyone still be doing in there at this time of night?"

He retrieved the stone, holding it before him.

 _Master Edge said this could only be used a few times…will it have enough power to get me home if I use it now to reach the crater? I can't put my finger on it…but it feels like something critical is waiting for me below – and it might be gone by the time I reach the crater on foot._

Closing his eyes, he visualized the undulating mist wrapping around his ankles, drew deep within his lungs the gag-inducing vapors being released by the earth, and felt a pointed glacial sting drag down his spine – terror.

His stomach leapt to his throat, and when he opened his eyes he found himself surrounded by upended earth, walls of dirt and broken plates of rock substrate towering high above the drifting layer of purple mist. He had been submerged into darkness – no light from the outside world could reach him now. His torch had been snuffed out, and he noticed with disgust that a thin layer of sticky slime had already started to creep over the rotten wood. He tossed it aside into a decaying river.

"Hold it! You there! Who are you!?"

 _I've been spotted!_ Gekkou blinked. _Damn!_ But then came another voice – softer, but yet much more threatening, in reply, and he realized with stilted relief he wasn't the intended recipient of the question.

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand."

Gekkou lowered his stance, snuffling forward slowly on bended knee toward the direction of the voices. Across the river, he saw the five figures he had spotted from the mountain – bare-chested men wearing blue cotton training slacks, all with their heads shaved bald in the same style.

 _Monks from Fabul!_ Gekkou frowned. _They never returned home!?_

Two of the monks stepped forward, and Gekkou craned his neck to get a better look. They were towering over a young woman, who was barefooted and staring up at them disinterestedly with glassy amber eyes. A turquoise swell of hair hung down her back, a white, translucent gown clinging to her milky skin like a winter morning frost. She was hauntingly beautiful – but similarly to how nature dressed certain plants and creatures in bright hues to indicate they were poisonous.

"What!?" one of the two monks who had approached her questioned, taking a step closer so that their chests nearly touched. Instead of backing away, she just kept staring, a slow smirk curling on her blood-stained lips.

"Are you going to hurt me? Don't even bother. It's futile. You saw my maelstrom, did you not? Imagine what would happen if I turned it upon you."

"You will _not_ insult us!" the other monk growled, and Gekkou clenched his jaw.

 _She is the one who made that light appear? That's not any kind of magic I've ever seen…_

"We have honed our bodies under the mighty Master Yang himself!" One of the monks grabbed her wrist, which was swallowed in his meaty hand. "Now, come along with us – we have some questions about this crater."

The girl blinked, bearing her silver-white teeth.

 _Fools, run away!_ Gekkou mentally screamed.

Another flash of light erupted, and the two monks that had antagonized the girl both seized violently, only the whites of their eyes visible as they collapsed to the ground in a smoldering heap of scalded flesh and charred clothing. The remaining three monks stepped back in shock, and the girl lowered her wrist, gingerly stroking it with her other hand as she cocked an eyebrow.

"I _did_ warn you," she whispered, and teleported away with a heaving sigh.

"S-stop!" The remaining monks called, rushing after her deeper into the crater. "You won't get away with this…!"

Gekkou rose from his hiding spot as their shouts faded away, shaking his head. He knew it was no use calling after them – their pride had been wounded, and worse yet, two of their brethren were now dead, or close enough to it. And more importantly…

 _That girl! Who is she?_

Taking care to step over the dying river and regretting just a little that he did not wear shoes (he had always had a preference for traveling and fighting in bare feet, believing them to lend the ultimate level of stealth that even the supplest leather could not provide), Gekkou kneeled next to the first of the fallen monks, who was foaming at the mouth and wheezing for breath in a way that Gekkou knew the end was forthcoming – he could also see that the monk now had a hole the size of a child's ball torn through his chest, which would have been clue number two that things were not going to end on a high note.

"Who...who are you?" the monk gasped, his eyes still stuck in the back of his head. Gekkou smiled gently, even though he knew the monk could no longer see him.

"I'm just a passing traveler."

"S-stop her...Save…my brothers…"

"I'm on it," Gekkou nodded. "Don't try to speak, OK?"

The monk laid back, the twitching of his eyelids slowly coming down from the speed of a hummingbird's wings. "Thank...you..."

And then he was gone. Gekkou pressed his hand to his forehead, feeling a choked sob rise in his throat. Had he intervened, would things have gone differently? _Forgive me! I hope you'll rest in peace._

Rising to his feet, he could see that the other monk was already dead, his eyes closed and half of his face blown away from his skull. Turning away, Gekkou looked toward the muddied path the monks had left behind in their haste to chase after the mysterious girl.

 _I'll do my best to save your brothers...But I have a mission to fulfill. I must return to Eblan alive, no matter what._

* * *

 _Eblan, 30 years prior_

"I'm glad you've all arrived. Tonight, as I've been telling you, is the first of many trials you will need to pass to become a true master of the Ninjitsu arts. This evening, you will be taking a test of courage."

There was a quiet rush of whispering among the group of boys – ten of them total. The only two that had no reaction to their master's announcement were Gekkou and Edge, who both had their arms crossed in twin poses and were glaring at each other, neither still believing that they had to complete their first trial together. Their master cleared his throat, and all eyeballs were turned back to him.

"The trial will be conducted here in the Eblan Mountains. Behind me, there is a cavern. It only has one way in, and that is also the only way out. All you need to do is reach the end of the path, retrieve the token, and come back. There is one token per team, so five total. Once you return, you can hand your token to me and head back home. Do not engage with the others upon exit."

"What?" Edge blinked. "That's it?"

"Yes, Your Highness, that's it," the master said warily, expecting an argument. But instead, Edge just smirked, muttering so that only Gekkou could hear.

"Think you can handle that?"

Gekkou could feel a nerve twitch behind his eye. "I'm not the one we should be worried about when it comes to following simple directions."

"Ho, ho, ho," Edge giggled. "I see you've at least brought your spine – but no matter, you won't need it tonight. Just let me take the lead, OK?"

"Your wish is my command, _Your Highness_."

They drew straws to determine what order they would be entering the cave – Edge graciously let Gekkou draw their straw, but when it was revealed to be the shortest, blurted an expletive so foul that even the older teenage boys in their group blushed. Gekkou prayed that there would be a sudden earthquake so that he could be swallowed into the mountain and enjoy a quick death – it would be far less painful than having to spend the evening with Prince Edge.

Their master clapped his hands together. "All right then – line up, in order. First group, you may enter."

At first, the students who had been left behind stayed quiet, straining their ears until they could no longer hear the first pair's footsteps clomping through the cavern. But one of them in the fourth pair realized that the master _hadn't_ said they couldn't talk to each other while they were in line, and whirled around to face Edge and Gekkou.

"You know, I asked my father about this trial, and he wouldn't breathe a word about it. It's like some huge secret."

"I did too," Edge admitted, which made Gekkou's eyebrows shoot up. "Neither my mom nor my dad would tell me anything."

"What about you, Gekkou?" the boy asked, and Gekkou shook his head. He hadn't bothered asking his grandmother about the trial – she had never taken it. His parents had – but they were both dead. They had been on a reconnaissance mission when he was just a baby, and had gotten caught. Gekkou didn't know all the details, nor did he _want_ to know – but rather than give themselves over to the enemy to be used as a ransom, they committed suicide instead. It had been when he was young enough that he couldn't remember them, but…it still stung when he thought about it. Seemingly everyone knew what had happened, so they tiptoed around the topic – even Edge wasn't crass enough to bring it up – but sometimes the most obscure subject would draw it to the forefront of his mind, like tonight.

 _Was that courageous, what they did? I honestly don't know…_

"Edge, Gekkou. You're up."

Gekkou blinked, looking up. He hadn't realized that he had spaced out for so long, and that they were now the only ones left. The pair of boys that had gone before them were walking away from the cavern, and one of them briefly stopped to drop what looked like a golden coin in their master's hand before continuing on. He refused to even look at Gekkou as he left – no one wanted to be caught breaking the rules.

Edge strode ahead, arms behind his head as he whistled. Gekkou scrambled to keep up with him, shivering as he crossed into the darkness of the cavern. After a few seconds, Edge glanced back at him.

"Are you gonna light us a way to see or what? I thought that was the only good thing about having you as a partner."

"Can't you cast Flame?" Gekkou hissed. "I thought you held command of all the elements, unlike us lowly normal folk?"

"Er…I do, but…it's not like I can do them all whenever I want yet," Edge sniffed haughtily. "What's the point of me wasting my energy when it could be better used for something useful? Just cast Flame already!"

"Grrr…" Gekkou shook his head, holding out his palm and whispering the incantation. A spiral of fire bloomed in his hand, and he held it out begrudgingly so that they could see.

The path twisted slightly, but never actually deviated into separate directions where they had to decide where to go. After about ten minutes, they came to a dead end into an open-ceiling cavern, and Edge stopped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What the hell? I thought there would at least be monsters, or something..." He looked around, huffing. "And where is the token? If those bastards didn't leave one for us, I'm going to be pissed!"

"Calm down!" Gekkou cried, wanting so badly to take the palm the fire was in and smash it into Edge's pert little nose and floppy silver hair. "Obviously, there is more to it than that…we just haven't figured it out yet…" He glanced up at the open sky above the cavern walls, noticing for the first time that night that it was a double full moon – although both the moon and its twin were hidden away behind a blanket of thick, gray clouds.

There was a dull flash behind them – like someone had walked past a mirror with a candle. Gekkou and Edge both whirled around, blinking. The only exit to the cavern – the path they had just taken – was being blocked by a sheen of crystalized light.

"H-Huh?!" Edge swallowed, and Gekkou screamed as a long, slender hand extended from the barrier, causing it to ripple like a stone thrown into a pond. It was followed by another, and another, and then three more – a woman's bare torso pushed through the crystal, her face twisted into a sneer as violet venom dripped from the corners of her mouth. Gekkou dragged his eyes away from her face and saw that her lower half consisted of a serpent's body, slippery and pink, which was dragging itself into the chamber. The woman threw her head back, a wild nest of brown hair whipping in the air as she sprung forward on her tail, preparing to strike with six outstretched arms.

"SNAKE!" Gekkou cried, diving out of the way just before she collided with him. Instead, she smashed into the northernmost wall, letting out a disappointed howl as she began to draw herself into a coil to attack again.

Edge was staring at Gekkou dumbly, his eyes wide as he watched his partner flit to and fro and randomly throw himself on the ground. "Gekkou – what the hell are you on? There's nothing there…!"

* * *

After an hour of climbing in the direction that he had watched the monks go in, Gekkou finally encountered them once more near one the impact site's ledges that would have taken them back to the destroyed meadow. Walking determinedly ahead of them was the girl, who finally came to a stop and whirled around, her hands on her hips.

 _Whoa!_ Gekkou gulped, diving behind an overturned boulder that had probably been blown down from Mount Hobs. The girl narrowed her eyes toward the three monks, tapping her foot impatiently.

" _Why_ do you insist on following me?"

"What did you expect!?" one of the monks cried in response. "We've got to avenge our brothers!"

 _Don't do it…!_ Gekkou closed his eyes. _You'll never win…this isn't what they wanted!_

"Avenge?" the girl blinked.

"That's right!" the second monk sneered. The girl looked down at her feet, pressing her fingers to her lips in thought.

"…Incomprehensible."

"What is?" the third monk demanded, and she glanced up, her eyes wide.

"Abandoning your _sole chance_ at survival like this. Isn't that much obvious?"

Gekkou pressed his lips together, staring down at his filthy feet, his toenails caked with something black and glistening from the impact site's decaying soil. _She's right! Don't be so hasty in throwing away your lives! It's not courageous…not when there are people waiting for you back home…_

The three monks chose instead to surround the girl, trapping her on all sides. She took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself as if the thought of even brushing against them made her recoil.

"As monks of Fabul, we have our honor to uphold! And our honor is our pride – _the pride of Fabul!_ "

Gekkou lowered his head. _Honor...Mom…Dad…is that why…?_

The girl rested her gaze upon each monk, smirking. "...Honor? I have never heard of such a thing." Another flash of light erupted from her form, enveloping the monks. Gekkou ducked lower behind the rock, clenching his jaw as he felt the seething heat blow past his ears, the smell of burning hair tainting the air. The girl turned away as the monks' bodies fell to the ground, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"What is it that makes you want to die so fervently?"

* * *

 _Eblan, 30 years prior_

"Help me!" Gekkou choked out as two hands wrapped around his throat, while another four pinned down his arms and sides. Edge remained flabbergasted, watching what seemed like an invisible force throw Gekkou down to the ground and hold him in place – Gekkou wasn't really that great of an actor, right?

"Cast Flame if you can't reach your axe!" Edge cried. "I can't see what's going on!"

"Erg…!" Gekkou gasped, clenching his eyes shut and muttering the spell. A circle of fire wrapped around the snake, but instead of inflicting any visible pain, Gekkou watched in horror as the creature licked its lips, absorbing the flames into its flesh, its tail transforming from pink to a bright, warning red.

"It ABSORBS fire!" Gekkou wailed. "I don't know any other elements…!"

"Damn," Edge muttered, shrugging and barreling toward Gekkou. "Well, here goes nothing…!" He did a somersault, launching himself into a high kick that he felt connect with _something_ as he sailed over Gekkou's form. Gekkou inhaled sharply as he felt the pressure release from his throat, watching as the snake rolled over from Edge's kick. Edge, not sure where he should land, lost his footing mid-air and crashed into the crystal barrier. Gekkou scrambled to his feet, his hands shaking as he retrieved his axe and swung it over the snake's human head before he could think about what he was doing. With a wet splattering noise, he severed the head from the body, watching it fly into the crystal barrier and hit the floor with a thump next to Edge. The remainder of the body twitched and seized as if doing an erratic dance for a few moments before finally collapsing in on itself, blood spurting from the hole where Gekkou's axe had sliced through.

"Is it dead?" Edge blinked, jumping to his feet. "Where is it?"

"Right here," Gekkou frowned, tapping the scaly tail portion with his foot. "Ugh…I absolutely…HATE snakes…! I do think it's dead though…"

"Well, I'll have to take your word for it," Edge shrugged. "That must have been the test though huh? Let's get our token and get out of here!" He turned, knocking on the crystal barrier and grinning like an idiot. "OK, we killed the snake! Let us though…"

Gekkou turned to Edge, scratching his head. The crystal barrier had transformed into a mirror, for he could no longer see through it to the other side of the path, and instead could now only see Edge gazing into it confusedly. He watched as Edge raised his hand again, this time noting that his reflection was copying him.

"What now?" Gekkou sighed, approaching the barrier turned mirror. But as he stepped forward, a spill of moonlight poured into the cavern, having broken free from the cloud cover. He could now clearly see that Edge was the _only_ reflection in the mirror – even though Gekkou was standing right behind him in the path of the moonbeam, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Gekkou?" Edge blinked, whirling around. "Where did you go?"

* * *

 _No!_ Gekkou winced as he heard the monks' bodies hit the ground, each with a hollow "thump". He kept his eyes trained on his knees, knowing if he looked up and saw the condition of those men that he would want to jump in the fray and tear the girl limb from limb – now, there were suddenly five innocent lives to avenge.

"This...this isn't over!" one of the monks whimpered.

Another voice, already trailing into oblivion, whispered. "Don't...don't lose hope...we must…for our brothers…!"

 _Ugh…Endure, Gekkou…Endure!_ Gekkou pressed his fingers to his temples, clenching his eyes shut. _There was another promise you made…long, long ago…can you really bring yourself to break it by challenging her?_

* * *

 _Eblan, 30 years prior_

"I'm right here!" Gekkou frowned, reaching out to grab Edge's shoulder. Edge pushed past him as if he were a ghost, running a lap around the seemingly empty cavern.

"Gekkou! This isn't funny! How did you get out?"

"I'm not trying to be funny!" Gekkou protested. "Just shut up and _listen_ for once in your damn life!"

Edge glanced up at the open ceiling, as if somehow Gekkou had managed to suddenly grow springs in his legs and launch himself out. Running his fingers through his hair, he chewed on his lower lip, his eyes rising back to the mirror. His reflection shimmered divinely, although his silver-flecked eyes were as dull as flint.

"So…I'm all alone, eh? Figures…" Edge covered his face with his hands, laughing bitterly. "As expected of the heir to the throne – no one wants to share that kind of burden, after all. But then I can't even pass a stupid test on my own…! What am I going to do when I have to actually rule?"

Gekkou looked down, lowering his axe. It scraped on the cavern floor, but elicited no reaction from Edge.

 _Of course…I get it now. It's called the test of courage because we're being forced to face our fears – the master must have cast an Illusions spell on all of us. I'm afraid of snakes – and of my latent powers not being good enough compared to my peers, thus a fire-eating snake. And Prince Edge…he's afraid of…_

"You're not alone!" Gekkou barked. He saw Edge flinch, spreading his fingers slightly to peek out between them. Gekkou marched up to him, placing himself between Edge and his reflection in the mirror. But still, when Edge looked up, he didn't register Gekkou's presence.

"Edge – er, I mean, Your Highness – I know you think being a prince means that you are inherently alone in this world. I guess I get it – people have a lot of expectations of you, and it's easier for you to turn those expectations on their head rather than try to rise up to them and fail."

"Who's there?" Edge blinked. His reflection blinked back at him blankly.

Gekkou sighed. _What was he doing, saying all of this to someone who treated him like dirt?_ "But if you think about it, as a prince, you're actually _never_ alone. As long as you hold your people in your heart, you'll always be part of something bigger than yourself. Loyalty and trust – those things all come with time, and they'll come to you as long as you're worthy." He rested his hand on Edge's shoulder. "And, um, obviously, you have a long way to go, but you shouldn't take for granted how well-loved you are now. Even if _I_ disagree about that, it doesn't change how other people feel about you."

"…Gekkou…?" Edge tilted his head, glancing down at the boy's hand on his shoulder. Gekkou quickly withdrew, flushing. For once, however, Edge didn't take advantage of his discomfort – in fact, he flat-out ignored it. "Hey man, where did you go?"

"I was here the entire time."

"Oh…" Edge looked down, touching his fingers to his chest and frowning. "…I guess you're right."

The crystal barrier quivered and disappeared, leaving in its place a single golden gil.

* * *

Gekkou flinched as another wave of light ripped through the crater, watching helplessly as the monks' bodies were thrown from their previous resting place and smashed into the crater wall in a heap of bruised and burned flesh and broken bones. The girl shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

"Such a waste."

She faced the moons above, and Gekkou noticed that even though no light could seemingly reach them, he could see the reflection of the twin moon within the girl's eyes – the first time that night he had seen any kind of light in her amber orbs.

"The interdimensional elevator launch is going to fall behind schedule," she sighed, and teleported away without a second thought. Gekkou rose to his feet only when he was sure she wasn't coming back, frowning to himself. _Interdimensional elevator?_

* * *

Gekkou scratched the last of the epitaph on the silver breastplate he had stripped off of himself, gritting his teeth as he attempted to drag his pocketknife down in one final straight line to form the "L' in "Fabul". The shaking in his digits, however, was making the attempt quite difficult.

"There…" he sighed, flipping the knife shut and tucking it back into his belt. He placed the breastplate over the inelegant, but tidy, grave he had erected from the rocks and dirt around him that hadn't yet succumbed to the meteor's rot. It had ultimately ended up being too shallow – unfortunately, he thought it would only last for a few days barring another one of the girl's maelstroms, should she choose to come back to this place – but it was the best with what he could do in the time he had left.

Bowing his head, Gekkou folded his hands in prayer. _Monks of Fabul...I don't know how to apologize to you. But I have my own honor to uphold...the honor of Eblan! I've sworn my undying fealty to our king and our people…it was wrong for me to make a promise to you that my heart would never allow me to keep._

He looked up, blindly reaching into his pocket for the Teleport Stone.

 _I will atone for this later...after I preserve my own honor._


	21. Act Twenty-One: Eblanese Tales Part II

Act Twenty-One: Eblanese Tales Part II | The Vagrants

 _[Dedicated to my Sweet Ibuki, who I know is on the moon smiling down on me now. RIP.]_

 _Izayoi's Tale | The Sixteenth Moon_

"Ah, I'm glad it fits you, Izzy. I'm sorry that no one told you before you arrived that you needed a bathing suit."

"It's no matter," Izayoi frowned, tugging up at the pencil-thin shoulder strap. "Are you sure it fits, though? It feels a little tight."

"Well, you're a little bigger than me…" the girl flushed. "…Where it counts, anyway. You fill it out quite nicely, is what I mean."

Izayoi sighed, raising her arms over her head as she turned in front of the mirror. She felt utterly exposed and vulnerable in every way possible – and if she actually got in a fight, she would become even _more_ exposed, and rather quickly. And _where_ was she supposed to hide any weapons on the two strips of fabric that constituted this bikini, which was already not doing a very good job of containing what it was supposed to hold in the first place?

 _I should have been more vocal with my displeasure about coming here,_ Izayoi thought, flashing a bright, fake smile at the girl who had generously come to her aid, an Epopt trainee named Lila. Lila smiled back weakly at Izayoi's reflection in the mirror. Lila couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about her new friend Izzy that made her just a little nervous – maybe Izzy had taken the comment about her body the wrong way?

But "Izzy" had hardly paid attention to anything Lila had said – her mind was hundreds of miles away. Izayoi had arrived in Troia the day before, shortly after Edge had dismissed the Eblan Four – and had found the town in a rather chaotic state. As expected, the Epopts – eight priestesses who ruled the Troian territories and were the guardians of the Crystal of Earth – were in a tizzy about the return of the second moon, and that panic had quickly spread to their constituents. But in addition, it had turned out that the rumor Edge had shared about one of the Epopts falling ill was true, which left the crystal with only seven guardians and an uneasy fear that it was more assailable than ever, now that the moon had reappeared after seventeen long years.

Admittance to the Crystal of Earth's chamber was not granted to just anyone – Izayoi learned that only Epopt trainees and the Epopts themselves had access to it on a regular basis for the purposes of prayer. Luckily, there were scores of girls clamoring to become Epopts thanks to the now-vacant post, so it was easy enough for Izayoi to buy the plainest, cheapest gown she could find at a clothing shop and dress herself down to look more like an average Troian woman versus a nimble Eblanese warrior, and then declare her intention to become a trainee at the castle.

"Name?" the Epopt asked who had accepted Izayoi's audience request to become a trainee.

"…Izzy," Izayoi replied. It was an alias she often used for missions – very rarely outside of Eblan was she her true self, and not many more people other than Edge, Gekkou, Zangetsu and Tsukinowa knew anything about what she was really like.

"Age?"

"Thirty-one." That had been the truth – she only lied about her age when the situation necessitated it – she was a master spy, and she had gotten that way by always keeping her fake identities as uncomplicated as possible.

"What are some of your best skills, Izzy?"

 _Poison expertise, espionage, manipulation and seduction, marksmanship, knife-throwing, hand-to-hand combat, water affinity ninjitsu, and I can kill a man in five seconds with just my thighs._

Izayoi gave a shy smile. "I'm rather adept at both white and black magic – All self-taught."

"Wonderful! I think you'll fit in well with the other girls. Please report here for prayers at dawn tomorrow, and at that point you will meet with the Epopt who will be leading tomorrow's lessons. Trainees are expected to report to us every day – don't think that just because a different Epopt teaches each day that we won't know who is skipping. When you are deemed worthy, you will take a final exam for consideration of becoming a future Epopt. Is that understood?"

"Crystal clear, ma'am," Izayoi nodded. "I'm sure everyone is anxious to find the successor for the eighth post."

"We are indeed, dear," the Epopt smiled. "I'm glad so many girls and women are answering their country's call for help, especially in trying times like these. I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow – have a blessed day."

Izayoi had gotten a room at the inn and kept a low profile until the next day for her appointment at the castle. She made sure her pink, off-shoulder gown was pressed before sliding it over her head, and pulled her dark brown and black hair out of her usual ponytail, letting the sleek locks fall over her shoulders and back instead. Without her makeup, her skin-tight bodysuit, or her obi filled with weapons and potions, she looked like a regular young woman going out for a leisurely summer stroll.

After the prayer session with the Crystal of Earth, which Izayoi could now mentally check off her list of mission objectives as having confirmed was safe and sound, the Epopt who was giving the day's lesson pulled the small group of girls aside to briefly announce "Izzy's" arrival, followed by an explanation that today, they would be needing a bathing suit and to meet at the southernmost pond in thirty minutes. Izayoi's face must have gone white in confusion, for it was then that Lila, a blonde who had been standing next to her, whispered in her ear kindly.

"I have an extra one you can borrow – let me know where I can meet you and I will bring it over!"

 _If I get in well with the girls, maybe they'll spill some dirt on who the leading candidate is for the eighth Epopt role,_ Izayoi smiled to herself. _Small-town girls like these love gossip – I just need to get 'em started, and they'll all fall in line._

"That would be great," Izayoi gave a dramatic sigh and twisted a lock of hair around her finger. "You're the best – meet me at the inn when we're done here. I've got my own room on the second floor."

And so, Lila had arrived – with the skimpiest bikini Izayoi had ever seen. As they left Izayoi's room to walk to the pond together, Izayoi snatched her knee-length navy and violet robe from a chair that she normally wore over her bodysuit – there was just no way she could prance around in a public space like this. Lila wasn't much more covered up herself – Izayoi wondered how the hell she could walk outside with a straight face.

 _I suppose under normal circumstances, a woman wants to be seen and noticed…but in my line of work, that's the quickest road to a failed mission._

Eblanese _kunoichi_ Izayoi knew that it took a lot more than just a flash of skin to turn a man – or woman – pliable in her expert, polished fingers – such tricks were far too base for her methodology, even in missions where she was afforded privacy. _Civilian_ Izayoi-turned-Epopt trainee "Izzy" was so embarrassed that she feared she might pass out as soon as the robe needed to drop – it was moments like these that made her realize how sheltered she was for such a worldly woman.

When Lila and Izayoi reached the springtime flower-covered knoll that sloped above the pond, the Epopt who was acting as their instructor did a final headcount – everyone had now arrived. "Are you ready to begin today's training, girls?"

Everyone nodded silently, and the Epopt continued, tilting her head toward the pond behind them.

"Today, we'll work on your spiritual fortitude. You shall cleanse yourselves with cold water and wash away any distractions. This will help you focus your internal energies. Once you're ready, please assemble in the pond." She turned and began to walk down the knoll, and the girls clustered together, some of them starting to pull off various pieces of clothing under the protection of their fellow students. Izayoi stood there with her hand clutching her robe, exasperated. _Why, why, why_ did she feel like Master Edge had done this on purpose, even though there was no way he could possibly see her? This was _humiliating_.

"Hey...did you hear?" a girl with red hair reached down to untie a peasant-style skirt. "They say a war's about to break out."

"I heard the same thing!" Lila blinked, and Izayoi bit her lip in an attempt to look concerned. The redhead, clearly thrilled at having the spotlight turned upon her, took her sweet time untying her skirt's sash as she looked at each of the girls to make sure she had their undisputed attention. When she met Izayoi's eyes, Izayoi offered an encouraging smile. The red head's lips twitched slightly in pleasure, choosing to interpret Izayoi's gaze as an unquenchable need to know what was coming next. She dropped her skirt and stepped out of it, her legs a flash of white.

"Word has it that Baron's deployed their airship fleet again. My mom said things are looking just like they did before the previous war. She was deployed on an urgent post at the border just this morning."

 _So her mother is a soldier_ , Izayoi thought. _The Troian military is already taking defensive measures? Seems like overcompensation if Baron is just increasing air activity. It's not like they ever stopped having an air force…I'm sure they still have to train new recruits._

 _Do the Epopts know something else they are not telling the public? They are in charge of the military…_

The red head pulled her blouse up and over her head. "And that's not all...I heard that Leonora will be taking her final exam shortly. That's why she's not here today."

Lila crossed her arms over her chest, blowing her bangs out of her face. "Really? _Leonora_? Say, that reminds me...Remember the rumor about how she needed to master black magic first?"

Izayoi raised an eyebrow. She could pick up from the slightly raised pitch of Lila's voice that this might be worth picking apart a bit more.

"Black magic?" Izayoi blinked, and Lila turned to her, nodding.

"Mm-hmm. Supposedly, they're requesting a mage from Mysidia to instruct her."

"Is that part of the exam?" Izayoi asked. "Proving that you've mastered black magic? I thought you…er, _we_ , only needed to know white magic to fill the post?"

Lila looked down. "I don't know...we're not told a lot about the final exam. When you are tapped to take the final exam, it's a really big deal – no one has actually taken it since the post became vacant. You're escorted to the Tower of Trials in the south and have to do – well, something there. None of us have spoken to Leonora since she was told it was her time to take the final exam – she was just pulled out of class one day, and that was it. She's been sequestered."

"Tower of Trials?" Izayoi narrowed her eyes. "So no one has actually completed it? It must be dangerous if you need to master black magic."

The red head, who was twisting a lock of her curly hair impatiently, let out a not-so-subtle cough so that everyone would turn back to her.

"Leonora has never cast a black magic spell in her life – I've seen her every day for the last bazillion years. If we really had to learn black magic, don't you think somebody would be teaching us? But the rush to put someone as mediocre as Leonora through the exam – It sure looks like there's going to be war soon, doesn't it? She's not even from Troia."

 _They don't seem to have a high opinion of this girl. Is it just because she's an outsider?_

There came hurried footsteps, and the Epopt appeared over the crest of the hill, clenching her jaw. "Girls, what are you doing? Hurry up and assemble in the pond!" The trainees jumped in surprise, Izayoi included, and those that had been too entranced by the gossip to undress began to hurriedly shed their clothing.

"Yes, ma'am!"

Izayoi let out a soft sigh as the others began to scramble down the hill. She untied her robe, letting it pool at her feet as she pressed her hand over her mouth in thought and wrapped her free arm around her bare midriff.

 _I've been here for a while now...What could be happening with Baron, though? This is the first I've heard of any concerns with them…is it because of the moon?_ As Izayoi glanced up, she saw a young man bouncing on a chocobo down the main drag that ran past the town of Troia toward the castle, which was to the northwest. His navy robes billowed in the wind, and she could see a long, brunette braid whipping behind him. He turned his head toward the village, a wide grin enveloping his features when he spotted Izayoi and the others, who had made their way down to the pond. Snapping back into "Izzy", Izayoi coquettishly lifted her hand from her mouth and gave a wave. The man's jaw dropped and he raised his hand to wave back, nearly losing control of the chocobo and seconds away from tumbling into the dirt before he managed to right himself. The girls in the pond broke into a shriek of giggles, and Izayoi shrugged as if this kind of thing happened to her all the time, sauntering down the hill to join them.

"You're the last one here," the Epopt snapped, and Izayoi flushed as she stepped into the water without any further fanfare. It didn't even occur to her that the pond was freezing-cold – she had such an affinity to water that she oftentimes wondered if she had ice water in her veins instead of blood – but the Epopt took her lack of reaction as an attempt at attrition, and backed off with the glaring.

"I'm sorry," Izayoi offered, wading over next to Lila, whose lips were already turning blue. The Epopt turned away from her and faced the group. The water reached everyone's waist and was so clear and clean that Izayoi could see her sun-dappled feet.

"All right. You will now cleanse your bodies in the pond and train your spirit."

"Ma'am?" Lila stuttered through chattering teeth. "Um...what should we be thinking about while we're doing this?"

The Epopt crossed her arms over her chest. Izayoi noticed that she was fully-dressed, with a twinge of jealousy. "You must try to sharpen your heart and soul as you concentrate. Do not think about anything else. Make your consciousness one with the water surrounding you."

Lila clearly looked confused by the Epopt's instructions, but instead, she merely lowered her gaze. "Er...yes, ma'am."

 _Heavens, at least make this a challenge,_ Izayoi thought, crossing her toes with impatience. _Hopefully this will be over with soon so I can go check out that tower – why in the world are Epopts, of all people, messing with black magic? It seems very sudden…_

The Epopt raised a finger. " _No one_ is allowed to leave until all of you have achieved full concentration."

 _Damn! We could be here for hours if I have to wait for this lot…!_

"You may now begin!"

Izayoi closed her eyes, pressing her palms together just above her diaphragm, and willed her contracting, anxious muscles to relax. _Patience…I will see the tower in good time…_ As she listened to the waters of the pond gently lap against her bare skin, she envisioned her thoughts being extracted from her mind one-by-one, plucked away by her pinched fingertips like one would stretch out a deliciously long string of saltwater taffy, and setting them free into the pond, where they would be eventually carried away from her and ushered into the ocean.

 _That second moon…when was the last time I saw it? The time between Eblan's burning and my return home…it's all a blur now…_

 _And Tsukinowa…he wasn't even a thought…he was born into a world with only one moon._

 _…Master Edge…_

 _…What will it take for you to stop seeing me as a woman…? It's been seventeen years…_

 _…_

 _…_

"I-I can't take this anymore! _It's too cold_!"

Izayoi's eyes snapped open at the shriek that had erupted beside her. She didn't dare turn her head, but could see out of the side of her gaze that now the rest of Lila had turned as blue as her lips, and her teeth were chattering so loudly that they would surely break apart in her mouth at any moment.

"You can't expect to become an Epopt if you can't even get through this training exercise," the Epopt sighed, and much to Izayoi's surprise, the red headed girl saddled up beside Lila, placing her arms on her shoulders. Had Izayoi been a betting woman, she would have expected the red head to try to find a way to flaunt her superiority. But instead, she turned to the Epopt, pulling Lila closer against her.

"She's a very frail girl, ma'am! You can see her face is turning blue!"

"Please, ma'am, you need to let her rest!" another girl piped up from behind Izayoi, and the Epopt shook her head.

"Very well. That'll be all for today."

 _Huh…_ Izayoi blinked. _That was a little too easy…maybe the Epopts really are hedging their bets on this Leonora girl if they are letting the rest of the trainees slack off?_

"Izzy!" Lila whimpered as she began to make her way out of the pond. "Sorry to cut and run…I'll stop by later to pick up the swimsuit, OK?"

"Sure," Izayoi smiled – this time, it was for real. After all, Lila had been very kind to her, and her only offense had been that she was just a little _too_ trusting – there was no reason to say good-bye with anything but genuine appreciation. Perhaps if Izayoi had been born under a different star, she would have become friends with someone like Lila and would have appreciated the concept of a microscopic bikini a bit more. "Take your time. You just get some rest."

She waited until the Epopt and the other girls had left the pond before climbing out and immediately tying her robe back on, which did much to assuage her internal angst about her body being on display. As she made her way back to the inn, she kept her head lowered in hopes of staving off any onlookers or strangers that might attempt to interrupt her from getting back as quickly as possible.

 _Is Baron the reason why is Troia so eager for a new Epopt? I still cannot believe they've gotten to the point where they've built an entire tower solely for training purposes...What is it they are training for?_

* * *

After drying herself off and carefully setting the borrowed bikini in the room's biggest windowsill so that it would dry in the sun and be most noticeable to its owner, Izayoi slipped into her ninja garb and pulled her pink gown over it – she realized she would still need to keep her identity under wraps until she was far away from town, even if moving around in a poufy gown was a serious pain in her arse. At least now she could keep her knives strapped to her legs again, which was a small consolation. After taking one last look around the room, Izayoi got down to her hands and knees and reached under the bed, pulling out her hunting bow and slinging it over her shoulder.

Leaving the door unlocked behind her, Izayoi shrugged on her robe to hide the bow and strode purposely out of the inn like she had an important appointment to get to. Her first point of business, she had decided, was to find a chocobo to make it easier to move around. She had studied the small map of the Troian region that had been hung up in her room as a decoration, and after noting the location of a patch of forest called the "Chocobo Village", had remembered that Lila had said the Tower of Trials was "in the south". Although the map was too old to have the tower marked on it, she had noticed there was a cape on the southern tip of the continent that would have been an ideal location for such a structure – if the Troians were being strategic, it would have provided an excellent border outpost in addition to whatever its true purpose was. Plus, it bordered an ocean and was cut off from the rest of the continent by a river – and Izayoi always had strong premonitions when it came to water. She didn't want to sound too suspicious by asking around about the tower – it sounded as if the Epopt trainees barely knew what went on there, so she highly doubted an average civilian would have any new information for her. She decided instead to go with her gut and check it out blind.

 _Maybe I'll see this Leonora there; too_ , Izayoi mused as she exited the town and made her way into the bordering woods. _If she's the leading candidate to become the eighth Epopt, it will be good for me to get a read on her. It was interesting that the other Epopt trainees were quick to point out she was a foreigner – I see that Eblan is not the only nation still wary of outsiders, even after a nearly world-ending war._

After tracking a chocobo and effortlessly catching it, even with the gown adding to her handicap, Izayoi traveled to the southern cape, her eyes trained to the horizon as she and her companion bird finally broke free from the woods. The wall of trees that had encompassed them had given way to the open world once more, and sure enough, her instincts had been correct – she could see the outline of an ivory tower in the distance. The surrounding areas were barren – there was no sign of any life or civilization that had made its way this far south – it all just added to how painfully out of place the structure seemed to be.

Once closer, Izayoi gently tugged on the chocobo's neck feathers to get it to slow down, and leapt off the bird, her gown fluttering behind her as she landed on the grass with nary a whisper. A set of steps led up to the tower doors, each side of the doors flanked by a massive ivory statue of what she assumed was an Epopt from ancient times – two women with matching flowing hair, laurel leaf crowns set upon their heads, and eyes turned benevolently toward the entrance of the tower, staves in hand pointing northward. Izayoi marched up the steps and had to laugh when she got a better look at the doors. There were no handles or anything indicating one could actually enter this place. Pressing her palms against the doors, she felt a tremor run through her body – it was brief, but she recognized the sensation – _magic_. Not quite the same as ninjitsu magic, but similar enough that she knew what she was now dealing with.

 _A magical seal bestowed by the Crystal of Earth? No matter._

Izayoi stepped back, taking one last look at her surroundings. There had been no evidence of anyone else yet arriving by foot or chocobo – she had not seen any footprints in the dirt path, and there was no dust or scrapes in the entryway of the tower to indicate that the doors had been opened recently. If she was going to investigate, now was the time to do it. Shrugging her robe off, she licked her lower lip in anticipation of what was coming next.

"Good riddance," Izayoi grunted under her breath as she grabbed the skirt of her gown and reached up, yanking it up and over her head in one violent motion. Throwing it into a pile at the foot of the stairs, she tugged her robe back on and tied the obi tightly around her waist, letting out a deep breath – the boning of the gown had been practically rearranging her organs. Reaching inside her obi, she pulled out a fire fang and flicked it toward the gown, her eyes lighting up in glee as it burst into flames and burned away into clean, glorious nothingness. When the fire had put itself out, she gently kicked away at the lingering ashes and turned to look up toward the roof of the tower.

 _I'll just scale the outer walls and take a look around._

Launching herself into a jump, she grabbed hold of one of the Epopt statues' staves, using it to swing into a somersault that allowed her to scale the first level of ramparts. Disappointingly, the windows she could see were lined with mirrors, which meant she was only greeted by her own reflection. Pulling herself up floor by floor, Izayoi could not help but feel as if a pit had begun to open up in her stomach – she felt as if she were being watched, even though there had been no possible way anyone could have followed her – not even Epopts could cast a spell of flight to keep up with her climbing pace. She could only draw one rational conclusion – that perhaps what was watching her wasn't human at all.

Pulling herself onto a balcony to rest her arms, Izayoi slid down against the balcony doors (locked and shuttered, of course), and reached up, sweeping her rat's nest of sweaty hair into a ponytail so that it wouldn't continue to fall in her eyes. Huffing for breath, she pulled her knees to her chest – she could still feel something's gaze trained on her, but whatever it was was hesitating for the time being. She had purposely made herself look vulnerable in attempt to draw whatever it was out, but it wasn't biting – at least not yet.

 _I'm impressed. Building a tower like this as simply as a training tool? There's an intensely powerful monster presence inside. I can feel it from here. The Troian Epopts must have something dire in mind, sending their trainees here…_

After waiting for a few more minutes with no visitors, Izayoi jumped back to her feet and continued her climb, revitalized. When she had at least reached the last level of the tower, she was pleased to see that the windows above each balcony had now become stained glass – and if she squinted hard enough, she thought she might just be able to make out what was inside. Breathing against the glass so that it became covered in fog, Izayoi swiped her leather bracer across it to clean off the grime that obscured her view. Pressing closer against the glass, she thought she could see some sort of an altar – or perhaps a monument? – in the center of a large chamber.

"What is that…?" Izayoi whispered, pulling back to give the window another round of cleaning. But as her gaze focused on a slab of dirt-streaked amber glass, she saw a pair of eyes flashing in the glass' reflection above her head, and felt a torrid, sticky blast of breath strike the back of her neck.

"What!?" Izayoi cried, whirling around and finding herself face-to-face with a Zuu, which was hovering in mid-air, trails of green-tinged dribble hanging from its jagged beak as it swung its head to strike. Izayoi dodge-rolled to the left, inwardly cringing as the Zuu slammed its head into the stained glass, expecting it to shatter everywhere. But to her surprise, the window remained stubbornly in-tact, and the Zuu recovered quickly from the miscalculation, rearing up on its spindly legs to prepare a dive attack.

"You're a little far from home, precious!" Izayoi hissed, reaching over her shoulder and withdrawing her bow with one fluid motion. She slid to her knees as the Zuu launched itself into the air, arching backwards and releasing a single medusa arrow into the bird's heart as it soared over her. The bird screeched as veins of gray slurry began to weave through its feathers like hundreds of tiny threaded needles, and Izayoi managed to dive out of the way just in time before the now-petrified beast collapsed into the tower with a shuddering crash that made the floor of the balcony quake beneath her feet.

Waving away a cloud of dust, Izayoi coughed loudly and slid her bow back over her shoulder as she stepped away, her fingers pressed to the stained glass for leverage.

 _It's still there…that feeling in the pit of my stomach…this isn't the only monster at this tower. The Zuu was just an annoying interloper – most likely driven mad by the appearance of the new moon for it to appear in a random place like this. Could there be more monsters inside that the Epopt trainees are expected to fight alone…? Why…?_

As Izayoi lifted her eyes toward the southern horizon and the surrounding sea, she pressed her lips together, suddenly finding herself aching for home. To her, it had not felt so long ago that she had stood in a very similar position to this, gazing toward Eblan and wondering when the nightmare that she had been living would finally end and she could wake up. When Rubicante had bathed their castle in fire, there had been so little time – she and her cousin Chisaki had been in training in the castle's basement alone when the attack had struck. Their only exit had been destroyed, so Izayoi did the only thing she could think of at the time – she flooded the basement with her water ninjitsu in an attempt to shield herself and her cousin from the flames that would have otherwise eaten them alive.

* * *

 _Seventeen years prior…_

When Izayoi had woken up, she was soaking wet, but quite alive. The flood had drained away, leaving herself and her cousin in a water-logged, burnt-out shell of mud and debris. Chisaki was alive too, although still blacked out, her breaths shallow and feather-light. Fueled on nothing but adrenaline, Izayoi dug them a tunnel to freedom and hauled her cousin's body back to the surface, where she encountered a few other ninjas who had returned to the remains of the castle to scout for survivors.

"Lady Izayoi! Lady Chisaki!"

"Gekkou!"

Izayoi threw herself into her student-teacher's arms, throwing any semblance of protocol out the window. Gekkou embraced her warmly; grateful that only after his first turn at the search he had managed to find at least a couple of living souls (although technically, they had found him).

"What of our family?" Izayoi pulled away, staring up at him warily. Gekkou's smile faltered and the flicker of darkness in his eyes had been all Izayoi needed – she had begun to process his words before he could even speak them aloud.

"I'm so sorry, Izayoi…you and Lady Chisaki…were the only survivors. Both of your parents…and Lady Chisaki's fiancé…they're gone."

* * *

 _Current day_

 _How much time did I spend in Troia when I left Eblan that first time?_ Izayoi crossed her arms under her chest, biting her lip. _After meeting with Gekkou, time had ceased to have any meaning – I don't even remember where I went first – I just wanted answers about what had happened. But by the time I had gotten to Troia…I was so tired of it all. I had been cowardly and left my cousin – and the last member of our clan – behind in our dying country, to mourn our family and her fiancé alone. I thought I had been doing something noble in trying to find the monster that did that to us, but what good was it going to do anyone in the end?_

 _I remember the night I climbed Troia castle - the tallest spire they had enclosed the ailing Prince of Damcyan in put this puny tower I'm on now to shame. It was to be my final mission, done under the cover of darkness – I had realized that all I really wanted was to see my family again. The moon was in its sixteenth phase – the phase I had been named for – it felt fitting for it to be that night that I joined them once more._

 _But when I finally reached my destination, my eyes were drawn to the southern horizon, just like now…and that's when I saw it – despite the blanket of darkness, despite the dulled starlight, and the shadows cast by the otherworldly twin moons – there was Eblan, my homeland, spread before me. The entire time I had been gone, it had felt so far away…but the truth was...it was always so close. If I reached out from that Troian tower, I could fit all of it in the palm of my hand. The Tower of Babil had begun to glow – something about Eblan's destruction had lead to its activation…none of us understood what it had meant at the time…it was frightening, but also breathtakingly beautiful._

 _I realized that night that a kingdom was not determined by boundary lines and masonry – it existed in the hearts of its people. And as long as at least one of us survived, Eblan would never truly die, no matter how many times it was razed to the ground._

 _So, under the light of the sixteenth moon, I gave myself a new mission – to rise from the ashes, like the phoenix that adorned Eblan's coat of arms – to be reborn over and over again as long as it took to unlock the secrets of the tower Eblan had been guarding since our ancestors could remember. That tower was the key to Eblan's destruction – and maybe its revival, too, if any of us could stop what had gone into motion._

A flicker of red dancing in the skyline caught Izayoi's attention, disrupting her daydream of years long-past. She blinked, pressing her hand to her mouth. Was she truly seeing what she _thought_ she was seeing?

 _What!?_

Over the Eblanese continent, a pulsing red had bled into the sky, fading softly in five-second increments before bursting to life again. Izayoi lowered her head, her hair falling over her eyes as she stifled a choke that was the bastardized cross of a sob and bitter laughter.

 _The Tower of Babil is glowing. It's still weak, but it's just as it was that horrible night I came to Troia all those years ago. Time is of the essence – I must hurry back to Eblan. My business here is done – the fate of the eighth Epopt will have to wait for another day._

She breathlessly reached down into her pocket for the Teleport Stone. But when her fingers grasped nothing but air, she felt the blood drain from her face. Fishing around in her other pocket, she came up empty-handed, cursing.

 _I must have dropped it during one of my many costume changes – oh Izayoi, you've really done it now!_

Rolling her eyes at her own carelessness, Izayoi gave a punishing kick to the petrified Zuu, letting out another string of curses. Her foot throbbing and her heart racing furiously, Izayoi glowered toward the cape, her eyes suddenly widening when she saw the very obvious solution that had been sitting in front of her face the entire time – she had just been too entranced with trying to get into the tower to notice.

"...That's it!"

Docked at the cape was a single ship – it was hard to tell from the height of the tower, but based on its size, she was fairly sure they would have room for one teeny, tiny passenger like herself. Slamming her first into her hand, she cackled and began to leap down the side of the tower as fearlessly as one would jump into a puddle.

"I'll catch a ride on that ship…!"

* * *

Izayoi sauntered up to the gangplank of the waiting vessel, glowing with the confidence she thought had been previously squelched by her turn as the bikini-clad Epopt trainee. Before making her way to the cape, she had paused in front of one of the mirrored windows at the tower in an attempt to do something with her dirty face and hair, and had pulled out her most secret of secret weapons – blood-red lipstick.

When she had done the best she felt she could under the circumstances, she made her way down the rest of the tower and retrieved her waiting chocobo to make the short journey to the ship.

At the sound of footsteps, the captain appeared, but it was evident by the size of his eyes that Izayoi was not who he had been expecting. She smiled, her hand on her hip. "Are you the captain of this ship?"

"Y-yes, but..."

"What is your destination?"

The captain scratched his head. "M-Mysidia, ma'am!"

Izayoi smiled more, dragging her teeth over her lower lip just enough to make sure the captain's eyes were still on her. By the involuntary twitch in his cheek, she wagered she still had his attention.

"I'm actually headed in that direction. Would you mind if I came along with you?"

The captain flushed. Behind him a few crew members had appeared, agog at the woman before them. The captain glanced back at one of the sailors, who nodded eagerly. "What man of the sea would turn down a pretty lady like you? Right, you guys!?"

"Aye-aye, sir!" the sailors laughed, although Izayoi heard one lean in and whisper.

 _"What about the brat…? Weren't we supposed to wait for him?"_

"Mmmm?" Izayoi asked, and the sailor blinked, shaking his head.

"N-Nothing you need to be concerned about, my lady!"

"Oh, good!" Izayoi giggled, pushing past the captain and taking her place on board. The captain tipped his hat, and she giggled again for good measure, pretending to be thoroughly amused.

"So, where are you headed?"

"The land of Eblan."

The captain's face fell a little. "Er…the continent with the glowing tower? We saw something suspicious with our scope…Are you sure you want to go to a dangerous place like that?"

Izayoi blinked, bringing her hand to her chest and letting her voice drop an octave. "Will it be a problem? I'll pay however much you want…"

The captain looked away. He was embarrassed after how cavalier he had just acted, but after dealing with Master Palom for nearly a month, he didn't want to put his crew through any more unnecessary hell. "…As long as we don't go anywhere near that _thing_ …"

"It won't be necessary for you to get close," Izayoi offered, and the captain nodded hesitantly, giving a reluctant grin.

"Well, we'll shove off then, Miss…"

"…Izzy."

"Miss Izzy! The winds are strong today – I think you're my good luck charm."

"Perhaps so," Izayoi smiled gently. She watched as the captain walked away, shouting orders at his crew to start preparing for their departure. Collapsing on a crate, Izayoi rested her head in her hands and tried to keep the smile on her lips, even though she could feel it quivering – about to collapse in on itself like a house of cards. For the moment, she had forgotten about the bone she needed to pick with Edge – it had been a long time coming, and his sending her to Troia had just been the icing on the cake – right now, all she wanted was to rush home as fast as possible and see how she could help.

 _Hang on, Master Edge! I'm on my way…_

* * *

 _Tsukinowa's Tale | Rabbit of the Moon_

"Now then, that's all for today, kids," the black mage closed the book he was holding, and the children gathered before him bowed obediently – all except a purple-haired boy, whose chin was already touching his chest – he had been fast asleep for the past fifteen minutes.

"Yes, Professor!" the children chanted, and the explosion of volume made the purple-haired boy blink and snap up, staring in horror as he saw the puddle of drool trailing down into his textbook, blurring the ink of many of the incantations written within.

The professor smiled. "See you all tomorrow. Remember to eat a good meal and get a good night's sleep, okay?"

"Yes, Professor!" the children exclaimed once more, and began to scatter back to their various homesteads in the village. The sleeping boy was swiping at the mess in his textbook with his robe, his cheeks tinged red as the professor stared at him expectantly.

"Lapin?"

"Y-yeah?" the boy looked up sheepishly, finally giving up on his book and slamming it shut in resignation.

The professor shook his head. He was wearing the traditional blue robes of a black mage, and a floppy straw hat was protecting his skin from the blistering early-summer sun – from underneath the rim, Lapin could see the professor's watery gray eyes narrowing. "You weren't paying attention to me today either, am I right?"

Lapin shook his head quickly. "S-sure I was! Really!"

 _Busted._

The professor had to restrain himself from smacking his palm against his forehead. "You've been studying in Mysidia for a very long time now – I know you had a leave of absence approved to take care of your sick sister – but you're back now, and already slacking off. Are you honestly sure you're interested in studying the art of magic here?"

"Of course I am!" Lapin protested. But he couldn't very well tell his professor that he was falling asleep standing up due to his being up all of the previous night doing some light spying. Some mysterious figures had made their way into Mysidia and had eventually entered the Tower of Prayer and never emerged – just their appearance alone had made Lapin suspicious, and he hadn't seen them again since. He wondered if they had managed to sneak away sometime that morning while he was getting ready for school, or if perhaps they had never left the tower. By the time he had given up on pursuing them any further, he had needed to get to class.

"I have a hard time believing that."

The boy looked away, the hand holding the textbook dropping forlornly at his side. "You're just saying that because I'm not from here..."

The professor frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Just how long _had_ it been since Lapin had first come to Mysidia, anyway? He remembered Lapin's arrival like it had been yesterday, but several years had already passed. The professor, then a student, had been walking on the southern shores on a nondescript night with a date, a white mage who was in his class, when she had suddenly stopped and gasped. The date had not been going all that well, and he remembered wondering if she was going to fake an illness and run for her life. Confused, he watched as she instead bolted toward the water, where a still form was washed up on the beach.

 _"What is it?"_

 _"It's a child!"_

 _"He's alive! He's still breathing! Give him some Cure! Hurry!"_

 _"R-right!"_

The professor had always held a soft spot in his heart for the stranger-turned-student, who said he had no memories of what had brought him to Mysidia, but showed a talent for magic and was willing to help out at the school as payment for room and board while he recovered. The inevitable day had come when Lapin finally remembered where he came from and had returned home, but he had vowed to continue his magical studies, having fallen in love with Mysidia, and occasionally returned for longer stints when school was in session. The professor liked to think that Lapin wasn't treated any differently because of his "outsider" status, but he wasn't so naïve to believe that there wasn't some possibility that he had been singled out by the dwindling population of the village that still believed that only certain mages from prominent families were the most "worthy" of a magical education in the most hallowed of mage dwellings on the planet.

Not wanting Lapin to think he held any such antiqued views, he shook his head quickly and felt his cheeks redden. "N-no! I didn't mean it like that...But can you really deny that you've been distracted since you've returned to class?"

Lapin bit his lip and continued staring at the ground, trying to think of what he could possibly say in his defense, when a new mage quietly joined them. He saw a pair of buttery-soft, pink leather sandals pause next to the professor's dragging blue robes, and felt his heart leap in excitement. Daring himself to look up, his eyes trailed over her long, alabaster limbs, encased in ribbons first from her sandals and then her pink striped leggings that reached her thighs. Her hands, wrapped in pink bracers and free of adornment with the exception of a tarnished, scratched star-shaped ring on her pinky finger, were resting over her narrow hips.

She was staring expectantly at the professor, her kind brown eyes turned upon his faded hat since it hid most of his face, but Lapin noticed that the light behind her gaze was far duller than normal – she was standing there before them, but her mind was a million miles away. Lapin saw the dark shadows under her eyes, and observed that her candy-colored pink hair was unwashed and seemed lank in its ponytail. The hollows of her cheeks were awash with white, like she had splashed sea foam on her face. But despite it all, she was still one of the most beautiful girls – no, one of the most beautiful women – he had ever seen in his life. It had been the first time he had seen her since he had returned, and he felt as if he had been inflated with helium and was a skip of joy away from floating to heaven.

"Oh! Lady Porom!" the professor exclaimed. He didn't seem to notice how _off_ her entire demeanor was.

Porom sighed and gave a small smile.

"How many times do I need to tell you, Professor? You don't have to call me "lady"."

"But..."

"Never mind," Porom raised a hand and shook her head. "Now's not the time for semantics, I suppose. The Elder's waiting for you in the Hall of Prayer."

"The Elder!?"

"He wants everyone there at once."

"Understood, ma'am. Right away, ma'am."

The professor turned to shoot Lapin one last apologetic glance before moving along, rushing up the boulevard Porom had approached them from, which lead north toward the Tower of Prayer. Porom watched after him momentarily, chewing on her lower lip and blowing a strand of loose hair out of her eyes before resting her gaze on Lapin. Lapin couldn't help but grin, pushing up on his toes just a bit more to draw himself to his full height.

"You're Lapin, right?" Porom asked, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. The way she said his name was like birdsong. After a few moments of silence, he realized it was his turn to say something.

"Oh! Uh, yeah!"

Porom cocked her head, cutting straight to the point. "You're hiding something, aren't you?"

Lapin let out a nervous yelp of laughter. He reached down; patting the hip of his robes with what he hoped was a degree of cool confidence. "So you noticed? I-I've got a toad inside my pocket."

A pink, exquisitely groomed eyebrow shot up. "Is that _all_?"

Lapin swallowed. _Well, there's a reason she runs the show around here…it's not like she's a dummy._ He looked around cautiously, and replacing his grin with a look of repentance, half-whispered. "Well, actually...I've got some Gysahl Greens that I stole from the field as well. I wanted to try to catch a chocobo…"

He could feel her eyes searching his, and watched as her lips twitched slightly. She crossed her arms under her breasts, her mouth pressing into a line.

"I hope that's it..."

"That's all! I mean it!"

She continued to watch him, and he could feel sweat start to break out under his hairline.

"What? What!? I didn't do anything else!" He sniffled. Porom blinked, and the spell her cold, pressed inquisition had cast upon them was shattered.

"You sound just like him," Porom said softly, and Lapin frowned in confusion.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Porom shook her head and turned on her heel. "Make sure you give back those vegetables, okay?"

"Okay!" Lapin nodded eagerly, even though she could no longer see him. She left him, her pink ombre cape sweeping behind her as she went. When she was totally out of sight, Lapin let out a deep breath, practically crumpling in the street right then and there. It had been the most intimate encounter he had ever had with Lady Porom – the first time they had ever really spoken – and it could have taken a negative direction very fast.

 _That white mage can't be trifled with. I'd better watch out around her. The "naïve outsider" shtick won't work for long – she could practically see right through me. That was a pretty good lie I came up with though about the toad and the greens…I'll have to remember that one for next time._

Lapin pressed his fingers to his lips. He wondered what had been so urgent that Porom herself had been sent to fetch all the senior practicing mages in the village – was this about the new moon? There still would have been some classes in session at the tower – he decided it was best to act as if he were taking some extra courses to make up for his absences, and see what he could find out. He pulled his leather book strap out of his robes, tying it around his textbook and slinging it over his shoulder. After straightening his robes and wiping off the smear of drool on his jowl that he was horrified to learn had been there the entirety of his conversation with Porom, he made his way to the Tower of Prayer, and felt his stomach drop when he saw there was a mage standing guard at the entrance. That wasn't normal protocol – something was definitely up.

"Hello," Lapin said casually, his fingers tracing a well-worn groove in the book strap. "I need to audit the last black magic class tonight – I'm still catching up from being out so long. My professor said it was OK."

The mage shrugged. "Sorry, kid. The Elder's having a very important meeting with his mages right now. All of the classes for tonight have been cancelled. Run along home now, okay?"

Lapin pouted, but gave a nod. "Okay. Have a good night." He turned away, flitting down the stone steps and making a show of turning off the main drag to act like he was heading toward a cluster of village dwellings. _A very important meeting, is it?_

"Hey, Lapin!"

Lapin glanced up, pushing his hair out of his eyes. A classmate of his, a black mage named Alec, was waving to him excitedly from his front yard, and stuck his fingers in his mouth, letting out a loud whistle. Lapin bounded over, grateful to have an excuse to actually head into the neighborhood, dropping his book in Alec's yard.

"What's going on, Alec?"

"Guess what? I just learned how to cast Toad!"

"For real?" Lapin smiled. "That's really cool. Was that what you were working on in class today?"

"Yep!" Alec grinned. "You want me try it on you? Don't worry, I've got plenty of Maiden's Kiss if I can't change you back!"

Lapin was about to politely decline, when the realization of his good luck suddenly hit him. Students weren't allowed in the Tower of Prayer, but…what about amphibians? He had learned in class that humans cursed into becoming toads retained all of their mental faculties…

"I'm game!" Lapin grinned back, reflecting Alec's enthusiasm. "I've always wanted to take a swim in the pond by the tower gardens!"

"Awesome!" Alec laughed. "Just head back to my place when you're ready to be changed back, all right? Here goes!" He closed his eyes, pressing the tips of his fingers together and chanting under his breath. "...Toad!"

There was a poof of putrid green smoke, and Lapin felt the unsettling sensation of his insides collapsing in on themselves and the rush of a viscous glaze dousing his flesh. Nothing hurt, but it felt awkward and uncomfortable, like a dream where you were wandering around school naked. When the smoke had cleared away, Lapin found himself staring up at a massive Alec, who was bending down, his voice booming.

"Whoa, it worked! How do you feel, Lapin?"

"Croak!" Lapin exclaimed, his eyes bugging out excitedly.

 _Perfect! Now, back to the tower!_

Lapin hesitantly raised one leg, getting used to the sensation of his webbed feet sticking against the blades of grass in Alec's yard. When he felt confident enough to move on, he launched himself forward using his hind legs, relishing in the shot of wind that rushed beneath his belly as he flew through the air and landed with a graceful "plop".

 _This is easier than I thought it would be! It's kind of like being a rabbit…_

Lapin made his way back the way he had come, aglow in victory and in whatever other slimy juices toads were naturally covered in. Hopping up the tower stairs, the mage that was still standing guard took one look at his new visitor, shrieking at the top of his lungs and practically merging himself into the doorway.

"Eek! G-g-go away! If you don't go, then...I-I-I'm outta here!"

Lapin stared up at the mage, wondering if his internal grin was evident. The mage shrieked again, gesticulating wildly.

"One of the students must have dropped you on their way out…everyone went home! HOME!"

Lapin continued to stare.

"...Eeeek! I'm going to have to find a box…!" The mage threw open the doors to the tower, rushing inside. Lapin hopped inside after him, taking care to go straight ahead toward the stairway before him since the mage had turned left, toward the classrooms. As Lapin began to climb the stairs, he could hear voices echoing around him – he knew from prior visits to the tower that he was heading for the crystal chamber, and it sounded like several people were already inside. Just as he was about to reach the top of the stairs, a frantic pair of footsteps closed in behind him, and Lapin had to press himself into a corner of the step he was on to keep from being crushed. It was a white mage with magenta, curly hair, muttering under her breath as she tugged the door open that lead to the room where the Crystal of Water was housed.

"Meghan, be sure to lock the door behind you," an unfamiliar female voice called out.

"Yes," the white mage replied, and Lapin hurriedly snuck in behind her before the door slammed shut. Darting off to the right as fast as his legs could carry him, he stopped behind a tall, crystalline pillar, watching Meghan out of the corner of his eye. She twisted the lock shut on the latch, turning to walk back toward the rear of the chamber, her face becoming distorted as he watched her reflection pass through the floating crystal.

Waiting for her on the other side of the room was a black mage with her straw hat hanging over her shoulders and long, stringy hair in a rat's nest down her back, and Lady Porom, her hands folded tightly over her navel. There came the sound of another door opening and closing, and Lapin could make out another figure approaching the three women – more feeble in gait and presence. A hushed conversation started, but Lapin was dismayed to find that he could only make out every few words – he was too far away.

The elderly figure cleared its throat. The voice was low and deep – he was almost certainly a man. "With Palom absent, I would like to call upon…"

There came collective cry from the women. Lapin huffed, sneaking out from behind the pillar inch by inch to see how much ground he could dare to gain without being noticed.

 _Palom…isn't that Porom's twin brother? Why isn't he here? I can't hear a darn thing…they're talking too quietly. If my ears were human…!_

There came another round of faint conversation, this time between the man and Porom. Lapin kept his eyes on Porom as she spoke with the elderly man, her eyes wide and alit with confusion.

The black mage cleared her throat, interrupting them. Her voice boomed through the chamber – it was evident she was angry. "Elder! This is certainly a serious matter that requires swift response…"

"…But surely Mysidia's army of mages would be sufficient for its protection!" Meghan protested. "Why do we need to call upon an outsider – one that may not even exist or be willing to ally with us?"

The man turned toward Meghan, a glare in his eyes as he lectured her in a voice that was still too quiet for Lapin to hear. He crept forward, wondering if he could make it to the next crystal pillar that was a few feet away while the mages had their gazes locked on the man – whatever he was saying, it held their full attention. He made a break for it, leaping forward into the air just as Meghan pouted, turning away from the man. Her eyes fell upon Lapin, and he felt time grind to a halt – his eyes never left hers even as he crashed to the floor and flopped behind the next pillar. But instead of screaming, Meghan's face merely twisted in disgust, and she let out an involuntary shiver before turning away.

 _Thank the gods, the woman has some sense!_ Lapin thought. He could feel the hammering in his chest dull to a quiet roar as he scampered to the other side of the pillar and settled in once more. He was now situated diagonally from Porom's rear, watching as she shook her head, her ponytail swishing over her lower back.

"Black magic is not a panacea for all our problems. Have you forgotten what the Elder taught us? Spiritual fortitude is foremost what we must be concerned about – saving lives instead of dreaming up plots to take them. If the dragoon really is Kain Highwind, he may know what is going on with the Lunar Whale or the moon – being that he has dealt with both in the past. And it would be safer for all of us if he could be our envoy to Baron, as well."

 _Who…or what…is a Kain Highwind? For some reason, that name seems really familiar…_

The man watched Porom quietly, his mouth pressed in a straight line. The black mage rolled her eyes, and Lapin wanted to jump out and give her a thorough lashing for showing Lady Porom such disrespect. Porom seemed to take it in-stride, though – she didn't even flinch.

"Yeah, b-but..." the black mage protested.

"How else should we respond to the moon's return?" Meghan shrieked. "If Palom were here, we would not be discussing such a ridiculous plan. We are practically gifting our lives to a phantom who could be friend, enemy, or non-existent."

"Elder..." Porom gently tugged the man's sleeve. Still, he did not look at her – his eyes were boring into Meghan's. Meghan huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, staring up at the ceiling.

 _He's the Elder of Mysidia?_ Lapin blinked. _He looks as if he's aged one-hundred years since I saw him last…is he ill?_

"I will travel to Mount Ordeals at once," Porom suddenly declared, and the Elder gasped, shaken from his daze.

"But..."

"Don't worry, I won't do anything rash."

 _Mount Ordeals…!_ Lapin frowned. _I've heard many legends about that place – it's supposedly a death trap._

The Elder's eyes fell upon Porom's. She met his stare head-on, straightening her spine and crossing her arms over her chest as if to dare him to name someone better to go in her place. After a few moments, he let out a shaky breath and shook his head. "Be careful out there. Whatever you do, remember to stay out of harm's way. Mount Ordeals accepted you once – Even I am not sure what will happen now – our world is in a terrible flux."

"Yes, Elder!"

"Listen, everyone. We cannot afford to hurry ourselves into an ill-advised plan of action. If there is no aid to be found at Mount Ordeals, we will come up with another plan – _together_."

"Yes, Elder," Porom, Meghan and the black mage said in unison, watching each other warily.

"But in the meantime, I want you two to go with Porom," the Elder ordered, and the two mages nodded, although the disappointment was evident on both their faces. It seemed to Lapin that they were as familiar with the dangers of Mount Ordeal as he – which was not a surprise, given they both appeared to have been born and raised in Mysidia, just like Porom. The three of them carried themselves in a way that was just distinctive enough to indicate they had the type of pedigree that was worshipped in this village.

"Yes, Elder."

"Prepare yourselves for the journey tonight, and make your leave tomorrow. It would also do you well to pray to the crystal for your safe passage – I, of course, will be praying as well."

" _Yes_ , Elder."

Porom faced the two mages, a small smile on her lips as the Elder turned away from them, unlocking the rear exit of the crystal chamber and beginning his slow climb back up the tower steps. The three mages began to whisper, and Lapin gave up on trying hearing anything else – he had picked up enough for the time being to mull over. He decided that he would have Alec change him back and would go back home for the night – _home_ being the inn he had secretly rented a room in.

 _I don't want to get locked in here tonight – better get as close to the exit as possible so that I can sneak out when they leave._

"Oh, Porom…" Meghan's loud, brassy voice burst out after a few moments, making Lapin freeze in his tracks. "There's a toad in here. Can you take it outside?"

"And why can't you do it yourself?" Porom asked tiredly, and Meghan let out a low wail.

"I just can't STAND the sight of them…let alone touch one!"

"How do you work in a school?" Porom sighed, but Lapin could hear the clicking of footsteps. Before he knew it, he had been scooped up gently from behind into Porom's hands, which smelled like a combination of lotion and salt – it took everything he had to resist both his human and toad instincts and keep his warty lips from pressing into her flesh. He didn't want her to freak out and drop him by accident – he was pretty sure even he wouldn't be able to survive that kind of assault in his current form.

 _Porom! Why are you headed for Mount Ordeals? Does it have anything to do with this Highwind person?_

"Here you go," Porom said softly, and Lapin suddenly found himself back outside in the courtyard of the tower. She knelt down, and he reluctantly hopped from her hands, turning to stare up at her. Porom watched him for a moment, a funny frown on her face as she stood back up and turned to go back inside, the tower doors slamming forcefully behind her.

* * *

That evening, after being transformed back to his old self by Alec, Lapin retired to his room at the inn, refusing any dinner. He wasn't sure if it was because the spell hadn't entirely left his system yet, but for some reason all he wanted was a really juicy slug or a crunchy cricket – he decided that was a sign to keep to himself for a while.

Pulling the creaking chair up to the small desk shoved into the corner of the room, Lapin removed a sheet of parchment and a quill, and began writing down every snatch of the conversation from the crystal chamber that he could remember. As the ink flowed onto paper, formulations began to take shape in his mind.

 _Highwind…Mount Ordeals…an "envoy" to Baron…and a Lunar Whale? Plus, Palom, Porom's twin brother, is missing…_

Lapin leaned back in his chair, crossing his leg over his knee and chewing on his lower lip as he stared up at the ceiling.

 _Kain Highwind…where have I heard that name before? Certainly not from any recent conversations…his name is not from any Eblanese clan I have ever heard of…perhaps he has ties to Baron if Porom wishes him to be an envoy? But how does she know him?_

 _And why does Mysidia need an envoy in the first place? Are they truly powerless just because Palom is gone? What is the connection between Mysidia, the new moon, and Baron?_

 _And what in the world is a Lunar Whale? Some sort of legendary monster?_

Lapin sighed, setting the quill down and shaking his head. The exhaustion from not sleeping the night before was catching up to him – again – and it was hard to hold a thought for more than a few seconds before it dwindled away into nothingness. Pushing his chair back from the desk, he dragged himself over to the small porcelain washing basin stashed next to the only window in the room, pouring a small amount of water from the pitcher into the trough and splashing it over his face. The water droplets clung to his long eyelashes, making his ice-blue eyes pop even in the dim light of the room. They were the most prominent feature of his clan – seemingly passed down into every generation without fail. He had them, his cousin Izayoi had them, and his dear mother did as well – the three of them resembled each other so closely that many people mistook them for siblings.

Scrubbing his cheeks with his water-tipped fingers until they turned pink, Lapin pulled off his shirt and used it as an impromptu towel. Whether he was at home or abroad, he never went a night without his simple grooming routine – having been raised by women, there were a lot of habits that he had picked up that perhaps were not as common for other teenage boys, but they were practically as ingrained in his DNA as any of his physical features.

Tossing his shirt at the foot of his bed, Lapin crawled under the covers and closed his eyes. He had decided that his mission wasn't quite over yet – he had verified the crystal's safety, but the conversation in the crystal chamber was more than enough evidence that Mysidia was in some sort of unrest. If he was going to see what Porom was up to tomorrow morning, he would need his sleep – he would rise first thing to follow her to Mount Ordeals.

There was a small part of him that worried about the Elder's comment about the mountain "accepting" them – but that was overpowered by the growing impulse bubbling in his chest to somehow protect Porom. If things got ugly – he could swoop in and save her. Sure, it would blow his cover as "Lapin" – but he thought Master Edge would understand if the situation escalated to that point.

If there was only one thing Tsukinowa could ever be sure about in this entire world, it was his master's stance on saving beautiful women from impending doom – always a "yes".

* * *

Tsukinowa could smell the storm even before he had awoken.

His mind was drifting in that delicate unconscious state where he was aware he was dreaming, yet he was still powerless to wake himself up. He was following two sets of wet footprints in the sands of the Eblanese shores – and he could see their owners straight ahead, even through the tossing rain that was so intense, it was blowing into him sideways. His shawl had become a soaked, leaden mess, adding ten more pounds for his petite frame to carry. The gales that were ripping through the air in irregular intervals had torn his shoulder-length hair from his ponytail, sending it cascading into the wind like ink pouring from a turned-over jar.

His mother was standing in the transparent mesh of sand and water when the ocean met the shore, her skirts clinging to her wet form and her head bowed, billows of black hair the color of the night itself hanging over her shoulders in limp curtains. Next to her, a sinewy arm wrapped around her shoulders, was cousin Izayoi, who was five or so years younger than Chisaki, but looked much older and refined in that particular moment – her hair was still wrapped tightly in her trademark ponytail, golden ornaments dangling like wind chimes, and her bodysuit was sleek with rain, glimmering like a second, highly-evolved skin. Chisaki was barefoot, her toes blue with early onset hypothermia – Izayoi's were wrapped snugly in her favorite combat boots.

Izayoi was the first to notice Tsukinowa – even though they had a fifteen-year age difference, they had always seemed to have a bond that went beyond that of just cousins within the same clan – Tsukinowa secretly thought of Izayoi as his big sister in all but name, and it was times like this where he was positive she felt the same for him – he had been purposeful in his stealth approaching them, but she could sense his presence right away. She nodded her head, indicating that he should join them.

"Mother, what's wrong?" Tsukinowa blinked. Chisaki was staring listlessly at the sea, her eyes as red as a rabbit's, but with no tears to be found.

"Chisaki…your son is here," Izayoi said gently. "He deserves to know, doesn't he?"

"Know what?" Tsukinowa frowned. Chisaki sighed, pressing a hand to her chapped lips, still not able to look at him. He stayed back a respectful distance, his eyes drifting between Izayoi and his mother. Izayoi stared at Chisaki, willing her to say something – _anything_.

"My Lapin…" Chisaki mumbled against her hand. "I've just received word that your father has passed. It was…unexpected. An accident, apparently, in the country he was living in. I don't know much more than that."

Tsukinowa looked down at the sand, because he didn't know what else to do or how to feel. The words that had just left Chisaki's lips…well, they really meant nothing to him in particular. He had never met his father – he could probably count on one hand the number of times his father had even been mentioned in front of him by either Chisaki or Izayoi. What he knew was minimal – there had been a torrid love affair shortly after the conclusion of the war and after the death of his mother's fiancé in the great Eblan fire – Chisaki had fallen pregnant, and he was welcomed by the entirety of their clan – his mother and Izayoi – nine short months later, his father out of the picture as quickly as he had appeared.

And because you couldn't miss what you never had, Tsukinowa had simply never thought about him beyond the occasional reference that was made in his presence.

 _Should I be sad right now?_ Tsukinowa frowned. _Is there something wrong with me that I feel nothing?_

"Tsukinowa," Izayoi whispered, and he glanced up at her, locking with the eyes that mirrored his own. She offered the slightest of smiles, and he knew she could tell exactly what he was thinking. "It's OK."

Tsukinowa turned away from his cousin, and gently pressed his palm to his mother's back. "Mother…I'm sorry. Please…please don't be sad…what can I do?"

Chisaki sniffled in reply, dragging her rain-stained silk sleeve underneath her nose like a child.

"I'll be OK, Lapin. I just…well, you'll understand a bit better when you're older, I think. I'm sorry you had to see me this way – you've always been stronger than me though – you and your cousin have been my crutch far more than is appropriate."

Izayoi and Tsukinowa shot each other a knowing glance behind Chisaki's back. "Mother…" Tsukinowa shook his head. "…I don't mind being your crutch. I'll never mind, because you're my only mother, and I love you. I might be too young to understand, as you say…but why are you sad about someone who hasn't been in your life for this long?"

Chisaki lowered her hand, a gloomy smile blossoming over her porcelain features.

"It's difficult for me to explain…but I suppose one of the main reasons is that even if he hasn't been in my life this entire time, he still gifted me one of the best – if not the best – parts of my life. He gave me a mote of light in endless darkness and despair, helped pull me from the depths of self-imposed isolation.

My darling Lapin – he gave me _you_ – it was the night of the full moon when your first cry changed my life for the better, forever – and I could see the outline of the legendary rabbit of the moon clear as crystal through my tears."

* * *

A violent rush of wind slammed into the window of the inn, rattling the windows so thoroughly that Tsukinowa's eyes snapped open. As he sat up in bed and waited for his vision to catch up to his consciousness, he could make out a blur of gray – a stark contrast to the sunny day he had greeted yesterday.

"A storm is coming," Tsukinowa muttered to himself. "The wind is trying to tell me that this is a bad idea…"

Regardless, he leapt out of bed and began to hurriedly pull on his discarded clothing – first the shirt from yesterday, layering over it a belt of knives and shuriken he had tucked under his pillow for safekeeping, and his trademark shawl, tugging it over his head and tugging the cowl over the bottom half of his face to conceal his identity. He swept his hair up into a knotted ponytail, and finally draped a jade and wooden beaded necklace over his neck and chest – a good luck charm he had been gifted by his mother and supposedly an ancient artifact that had been owned by the founders of their clan millennia ago.

And now, it was time to play the waiting game. Tsukinowa pressed himself against the wall next to the window so that he could easily see outside without being spotted. Although not on purpose, his room in the inn had offered him the perfect view of Mysidia's main drag – he could see most of the village's comings and goings, including the markets and the village gates. Cracking open the window, Tsukinowa felt another urgent breeze rush inside, and he closed his eyes, letting it wash over him.

"She hasn't left…yet. But she will be soon…"

Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, a shock of pink hair came bounding down the streets, flanked by the two mages he had seen in the crystal chamber yesterday. It was hard to tell from far away, but Porom seemed happy enough – she was walking with purpose, her head held high and her spine ramrod-straight. A pack was strapped to her back, and he could see a mythril staff sticking out of it.

 _Well...time to climb a mountain_ , Tsukinowa thought, sliding open the window just enough so that he could slip through. It was rare moments like these that he was grateful he hadn't hit his teenage growth spurt yet – despite being told that he was just a late bloomer, sometimes being short enough to pass as an awkward elementary magic student really did a number on his confidence – especially when he stood next to Izayoi, who was practically giant.

Perching on the roof of the inn, Tsukinowa observed as Porom and the others crossed the threshold of the village gates and proceeded due east. It was another fifteen minutes before he allowed himself to drop down from the roof into an alley, crossing to the next side street and climbing the side of a sundries shop that would give him enough height to vault over the protective wall erected around the village.

Once he had landed safely in the meadows outside of Mysidia's village limits, he relaxed his stance slightly – Porom and the mages were mere specs against the already rapidly-darkening horizon, and in a pinch if one of them suddenly rushed back in his direction, he could use the Teleport Stone Master Edge had gifted him to return back to the inn. The road to Mount Ordeals was an ancient trader's path that bisected the majority of the continent Mysidia sat on, so he had no fears of getting lost. As long as he kept his distance, he figured everything would go according to plan. He could find out what Porom was seeking on Mount Ordeals, and report back to Eblan post-haste.

 _An alliance between Baron and Mysidia to investigate the moon seems like something Master Edge should know…if that's what is really going on here. Master Edge has allies in Baron – why do you suppose they would not engage with us?_

Mount Ordeals, in a way, did not live up to Tsukinowa's expectations from all the stories he had heard as a "student" in Mysidia. Both the children and professors he had heard tall tales from made it sound like the mountain was the end of days itself – some variety of hellscape dripping with undead where you would be zapped by lightning as soon as you set foot on the skull-ridden path, deemed too unworthy to grace the holy land. Oh yes – and there had also been the stories about the walls of flame so impenetrable that only the most powerful black mage in Mysidia, Palom, could quench them with his ice magic.

But the reality was that it was just a tall, imposing mass of rock that did look rather threatening against the backdrop of a brewing storm, but otherwise seemed fairly benign – rotting swathes of trees did dot the pathways, and there were a good amount of bones – Tsukinowa had a hard time distinguishing if they were human or monster – but not so many that they crunched under your boots, like his professor had warned many times when a child made the mistake of asking what Mount Ordeals was like. Truth be told, Tsukinowa thought that perhaps the mountain in Eblan where he had needed to take his test of courage as a young student of ninjitsu was still scarier – the giant dragon he had to fight at the end of his trial still gave him nightmares to this day.

Tsukinowa took a step forward on the rock-strewn path, and paused. No holy bolts of light tore from the sky to fry him, nor had a pit opened up beneath his feet to drop him into Hell.

"I guess that means I'm accepted," Tsukinowa laughed to himself. He pushed forward, almost too-giddily kicking away a skull that was in his way. The skull smacked into a wall of rock, and Porom and the others, on a path several meters above that made a spiral around the mountain's base, paused at the sudden cracking sound.

Tsukinowa grimaced, throwing himself against the same wall and flattening his body as much as he could possibly manage, sucking in every part of him that he could manipulate. He could hear Porom mutter something above, and could only pray that she wouldn't decide to come back down the path to investigate.

"…Just the wind…" he heard a high-pitched voice – it sounded like Meghan's – drift over him from above. A few moments later, their reluctant footsteps faded away, and he sighed in relief, sliding down against the wall and cradling his head in his hands, which was spinning from holding his breath for so long.

 _I can't let my guard down around Porom for even a moment! Was she a ninja in a past life?_

At the crossing that linked the western station of the mountain to the eastern station, Tsukinowa once again had to scramble for cover. Porom's companions were battling a nest of Spirits, and to Tsukinowa's surprise, Porom had left the battle to backtrack to another path to see if it was less riddled with monsters. Dashing behind a boulder that had at some point rolled down from the now-visible summit above them all, Tsukinowa once again held his breath, pressing his fingers against the Teleport Stone buried deep in his pocket in case things got awkward.

Porom stopped a few feet away from the boulder, her voice quivering as she suddenly called out. "Palom?"

Tsukinowa closed his eyes, lowering his head. He heard Porom cough weakly, and after a few moments, she retreated back the way she came, turning left to explore the other path alone.

 _She must be terribly worried about her twin…_

* * *

Feeling particularly cautious after their last near-encounter, Tsukinowa decided to stay in his hiding spot and give Porom and the others a longer lead. While waiting, he heard Porom double-back from the path she had gone down, declaring aloud to her companions that it was a dead-end when she emerged back onto the crossing. When their chattering had completely faded away, Tsukinowa stood back up, slowly traipsing through the piles of disintegrating monster corpses the girls had left in their wake.

 _There's something to be said about the power of magic,_ Tsukinowa shook his head as he leapt over a pile of rotting Skuldiers and latched to a sheer cliff to scale, deciding he had given them enough of a lead to allow himself a shortcut. _I've always wished to be stronger in the mystic arts – our clan has always had the most affinity with water and wind, and I hoped to break the mold in that regard – but it seems that even with all my training in Mysidia, I can't rise above my station. Master Edge has been so generous to let me continue my magical education, even though I haven't demonstrated any progress to him at all and my reconnaissance of Mysidia returns nothing useful – I wonder what he is thinking? I'm too cowardly to question his motives…and Izayoi would say it's not in my place to do so…_

When he finally breached the summit, Tsukinowa was shocked to see that there was no sign of Porom or the others – and there was no evidence of any type of struggle, either. Hauling himself over the cliff, he climbed to his feet and resisted calling out, instead wandering over to a large stone shrine erected in the center of the summit that had caught his eye. It was inscribed with a message so ancient that he couldn't make a word of it out – the elements had done away with any possible context clues long, long ago.

 _What's this? A stone monument?_ Tsukinowa blinked, running his hand over the cold, smooth edges. _Porom…where did you go?_

He circled around the monument for good measure, even though there was no way Porom and two other women could possibly squeeze behind it to hide. Across from the monument was a bridge that Porom and the others would have had to cross in order to reach where he had climbed to – he flew over it, his footsteps light and so airy that the bridge barely stirred beneath his body. But when he glanced down the spiraling pathway that would take one back down the mountain, there was no sign of them there, either – so that meant they had not turned back.

"What is going on?" Tsukinowa muttered, scratching his head. There had been no sign of Highwind, either – so maybe they _weren't_ looking for him here? A scorching tendril of wind danced over his ear, and his head shot up, his eyes immediately falling to the east from whence the gust had come. A beam of crimson light was burning through the distant fog that had been ushered over the land thanks to the incoming storm, and Tsukinowa had to mentally map out the blue planet in his mind to try to understand what he was looking at. When he realized he was staring in the direction of Eblan, the horror of what had come to pass dawned upon him like a wake-up slap to the face.

"The Tower of Babil…!" Tsukinowa whispered. "It's been activated!"

He had never seen the tower's glow for himself – from what he could piece together from Eblan's tortured history with the tower, it had not shed any light since a mere few months before he was born – close to sixteen years ago, now. But he had always been told – or warned, rather – that if the tower had become activated, you would just simply _know_. And he knew there was nothing safe or normal about the pulsing red that he could see rising and falling against the sea of gray – it was like the beating heart of a monster taking its first breaths, soon to spread its wings and tear its cocoon asunder.

Biting his lip, Tsukinowa glanced back one last time toward the long-abandoned stone monument behind him. _I hope nothing's happened to you, Porom…but I need to get home as soon as possible!_

He wasn't sure what it was he would actually do once he reached Eblan – but he was sure Master Edge would have a plan – he always did. _I'll be back with you as soon as I can, Master!_

Tsukinowa reached into his pocket, grasping hold of the Teleport Stone. He had originally entertained the idea of trying to water-walk back to Eblan, before this crisis had reared its ugly head – he sorely needed the practice, and he had liked the idea of keeping the Teleport Stone on him in case of a future emergency – he knew despite Master Edge's nonchalance when he handed them out that the stones were rare, and contained a type of magic that not even ninjitsu could properly replicate. But now he couldn't think of a situation that would have been considered more of an emergency than the tower that nearly destroyed their planet seventeen years ago coming back to life.

Closing his eyes, he let out a deep breath, trying to shake away the anxiety that had settled into his limbs. _Well, back to Eblan. Thank you, Mysidia. Farewell again, Professor...and farewell to you, Porom. I hope we have a chance to meet again someday…I'd like to tell you my real name, next time…_

 _Master...my friends...I will see you all soon!_


	22. Act Twenty-Two: Edge's Tale

Act Twenty-Two: Edge's Tale | The Daydream Maiden

Edge licked his fingertip and flipped through the paper bills one last time for good measure. Counting out the same amount he had previously, he tapped the bills on the table to straighten them into a neat pile, sliding them back toward the elderly woman who had initially made the delivery.

"One-hundred thousand gil, exactly. Please deposit into the usual account."

The woman cocked an eyebrow, hesitating as her palm hovered over the stack of bills.

"You mean to deposit the entire amount, Your Highness?"

Edge nodded, gesturing toward a small sack next to him stuffed with gil coins. "Yes, this should be sufficient for what I need. The rest of it can be deposited."

The woman's palm fell upon the money, sweeping it away in the blink of an eye. Edge smiled and stood up, his chair groaning as it scraped across the inn's limestone floors. The woman did not move to follow him, but instead looked up at the king, her lips pursed.

"Your Highness…I know that these proceeds from the treasures you have been selling have been getting funneled directly into Mist. You don't have to sneak about – this is a different Eblan than even a few years ago. Your people would understand that those treasures are your inheritance from the late King and Queen and that they are yours to do with as you please – not to mention all the treasure you found on the moon seventeen years prior."

Edge paused, his fingers gently drumming over the scuffed tabletop. He smiled kindly – he had wondered how long it would take for someone to finally confront him over this little shell game he had been dabbling in for the past few months.

"Maybe so, but it would be a hard sell to explain _why_ Mist, of all the places in the world – especially when Eblan was hit just as hard during the war."

"But Eblan is doing fine," the woman frowned. "Unless there is something you know that your subjects don't?"

Edge shook his head quickly. His schemes, no matter how ridiculous over the years, had never involved anything fraudulent in regard to his people – he was fine with shouldering the reputation he had earned as a young man for being irresponsible and flighty, but took his duty as the protector of Eblan as seriously as any of the other royals on their planet – perhaps more so in some instances.

"No…Eblan is fine, as you say. It's more of what I'd rather leave unsaid, I suppose."

 _And a promise is a promise…right, Rydia?_

The woman nodded, finally rising and patting the cross-body she had slung over her shoulder containing the cash. "It was not my intention to question your wishes, Your Highness. I merely wanted to let you know that we can drop the pretense between us, if there was any in the first place."

"I appreciate it," Edge grinned. He wished all the elderly people he knew were as chill as this lady – maybe the Seneschal and Zangetsu could take some much-needed lessons from her. "And speaking of pretense, have you found out yet just who exactly our generous benefactor is? I have to say, I'm rather surprised some of these pieces sold at auction this time – I thought some of them were far too steeped in Eblanese history to be of any interest to an outsider."

The woman couldn't help but chuckle. He asked her the same question every time they met. "Alas, the bidder remains anonymous, and my contacts at the auction house remain as tight-lipped as ever. All I've managed to deduce is that they have a lot of money to burn, and may possibly live in the Kaipo area. Perhaps they are a scholar interested in the world's history?"

""Scholar" and "Rich" don't often go together in the same sentence," Edge smirked. "At least, in my experience."

"You'd be surprised at some of the money some of these old families are sitting on," the woman shrugged. "At any rate, I'd best get to work on this, Your Highness. You'll let me know if anything else comes up?"

"I will," Edge nodded. "Thanks again…"

The woman left first, as she always did when they met like this. Today, the inn had been fairly empty – Edge hadn't even been bothered to get them a private room, deciding that sitting in the common area next to the now-extinguished fireplace was less suspicious. The woman minding the inn that day had been a sweetheart named Emily who had unfortunately been rendered half-deaf in the bombing during the war – she had been in a room where one of the Firaga spells that had been let loose by Rubicante directly exploded. As a result of her handicap, Edge hadn't bothered to find an excuse to shoo her out. She had been bobbing her head to a radio broadcast that was playing softly behind the counter, and had been paying them no mind.

"Good-bye, Your Highness," Emily chirped as Edge exited the common room and strode past the check-in counter. Edge blew her a kiss in return, and she blushed wordlessly, sliding the dial up higher on the radio.

 _Ahhh…that reminds me! Now that my chores are done and the others are out of my hair for a bit…I can get to some reading._

Edge's hand flew to the concealed parcel that was still stuffed in his obi, a grin spreading across his face. The return of the second moon be damned, if their peaceful days really were coming to an end, than he needed to take advantage of the quiet while he still could.

But as he climbed the spiral stairwell that took him to his bedroom high atop the western tower, he found his enthusiasm waning with each step that took him closer to his ever-elusive goalpost. By the time he reached the threshold of his bedroom, his legs felt as if they were gradually petrifying, and his heart was no longer dancing excitedly at the idea of a half hour of uninterrupted erotica. Locking the door of his rather Spartan bedchamber behind him, Edge flopped into the bed, pulling out the magazine and tearing off the brown paper wrapping. It took him five minutes to realize that he had been staring at the cover, unblinking, and yet still had no idea what it was he was looking at – the cover model was a blur of swelling peach and strategically-styled honey blonde hair. He groaned and tossed the magazine aside; pushing his fingertips into his temples and closing his eyes.

He had the sobering realization that he was too worried about the others to do much of anything – what had he been thinking, sending the Eblan Four off like that to investigate the crystals? Yes, they had begged him to go – but really, what did they know about what they were getting themselves into? Hell, what did _he_ even know?

It wasn't that he didn't have faith in his disciples (that was what they liked to call themselves – he still wasn't sure how he felt about that, being that he had never actually formally accepted them as students) – the truth was, they had all been in more dangerous situations since even before the Eblan Four had been formed than just traveling outside the country to babysit the crystals. But the return of the moon added a new layer of danger to the entire gambit – no one in Eblan, save for himself, knew of the horrors that had dwelled on that satellite when he set foot on it seventeen years ago – and even if this wasn't the same moon as before, there was still something sinister about its sudden appearance – he couldn't quite put his finger on it – like they had been quietly infiltrated by the enemy, and now it was already too late.

 _Gekkou…Zangetsu…Izayoi…Tsukinowa…I meant what I said…do not throw your lives away for me…not even for Eblan. Never again do I want our people to suffer on the world's behalf!_

It had been long before the war that Edge had met the first of his disciples – the one who had founded what had become the Eblan Four. He and Gekkou had spent most of their childhood and adolescence together, although quite unwillingly – Edge couldn't remember a time where he and Gekkou had ever really gotten along – they were just opposite enough to annoy the living hell out of each other. Edge knew now that perhaps he was more of a miserable jerk than he should have been – but he and Gekkou had never formally made acknowledgement of that. Eventually, the time came when their paths began to naturally diverge – Edge was the crown prince, after all, and Gekkou was training to become a teacher of ninjitsu so he could one day crush the spirits of any little future Edges (that was Edge's interpretation of Gekkou's ambitions – perhaps if he had asked Gekkou, he would have gotten a different explanation). Edge hadn't thought about Gekkou of Fire again until after he had returned home from the war – it wasn't long after he had formally been crowned as the King of Eblan when Gekkou appeared in his throne room one late summer night – the unannounced encounter had entwined their fates once again.

* * *

 _Eblan, 17 years prior_

"Your Young Highness – one of the leaders of the Eblan Cave evacuation effort is here to give you a status report."

Edge blinked drowsily, not bothering to push away the silky silver hair that had flopped over his eyes. "Huh…? But I was just about to go to bed…I was having the greatest dream…" He let out an obnoxious yawn, and Seneschal shook his head.

"Your Young Highness, may I remind you that your role does not have designated office hours? Would it kill you to engage with one more of your subjects before you leave to have whatever vulgar dream you are looking forward to?"

"Vulgar!? I'll have you know that my dreams of late have been nothing but romance and the stuff of fairy tales! You're a dirty old man for thinking otherwise!"

Seneschal rolled his eyes. "Going on _again_ about that daydream maiden of yours? Or have you finally moved on to someone that has the poor judgment to marry you so Eblan has some sense of stability?"

"Ouch, Seneschal!" Edge clasped his hand to his heart, wincing. "You know, you've really changed in the time I was away. Now you're a _cruel_ , dirty old man. It would be insensitive of me to take a bride during this time of…uh…transition. Yeah! How can I be happy when so many of my people continue to suffer?"

"Sure," Seneschal shook his head. "So in that case, you can listen to the last status report of the evening and be on your way." Before Edge could leap up and stop him, Seneschal turned toward the throne room doors, shouting out. "Please come in! His Highness will see you now."

"Bastard!" Edge hissed, and Seneschal took his place in the rear of the throne room, shaking his head. The doors opened hesitantly, and a slightly hunched figure wrapped in a red cloak stepped into the failing light of the few candles they had been able to retrieve from the caverns. Eblan was still in crisis mode in terms of supplies – shipments coming in from Baron and Fabul were helping tremendously, but they all went to the survivors who still had to take shelter in the caverns beneath the Tower of Babil first. Construction on Eblan castle was going as swiftly as possible so that more people could come home – but it did not amount to much when a majority of your workforce was injured or dead.

"Excuse me for the intrusion, Your Highness," the figure said, bowing deeply. "I was just passing through for the night, and thought I would share the progress we've made today before returning to the caverns."

"Yes, yes," Edge nodded, gesturing with his palm for the man to stand. "Come closer – it feels like I'm talking to a shadow – I'm not going to bite!"

The man chuckled, stepping further into the light. "I would not be so sure about that."

Edge blinked, grasping the arms of his throne. "Wha…!? Gekkou, is that _you_?"

"Yes, Your Highness," the man nodded. "It's been a long while, hasn't it?"

"Er…yeah," Edge flushed. He couldn't exactly remember how long, but it was long enough for him to forget about Gekkou's existence entirely. He was flooded with a distressing mix of relief and shame – he was glad Gekkou was still alive after Rubicante had torched Eblan – the same couldn't be said about many of their other classmates – but it wasn't like the two of them had ever buried the hatchet, and now they were in two very different positions from when they had just been rival students. For once, Edge was rendered speechless.

Gekkou stared up at the king cordially, and Edge sank slightly in his throne. He couldn't help but think maybe Gekkou was _enjoying_ this – his black eyes were crinkled like he was remembering a hilarious joke, and a wide smile was tugging at his lips.

"We're projecting that the inn will be completed tomorrow," Gekkou said, plowing through the tension effortlessly. "Another airdrop of medicines arrived today from Baron, which was enough to heal three more men who will join my team effective tomorrow. Once the inn is completed, we'll be looking to move the sickest citizens there immediately so that they can better recover outside the dampness of the caverns. Do we have permission to proceed?"

Edge tucked his hair behind his ear. He was shocked that so much progress had been made on the inn so quickly – he knew from prior reports that a new squad leader had taken over the inn effort, but he had no idea that person had been Gekkou.

"Yes, of course," Edge replied, trying to suppress the surprise in his voice. "It was a great idea to prioritize the inn – just the change in the environment alone should greatly aid the recovery rate, and then we'll have more people to help build before winter sets in."

"Brilliant work, Gekkou of the Fire," Seneschal smiled. "A fine update to end our evening on. If I have Your Highness' permission to take my leave, I will just be making my final rounds of the castle for the night and retiring."

Edge would have normally let out a sarcastic huff, but felt that in Gekkou's presence, he should perhaps just act a little more kingly. "Just be on the watch for any pitfalls, Seneschal – I would hate for you to tumble to the basement and not be found for days."

"Yes sire," Seneschal smirked, sweeping past Edge and Gekkou. "Good night."

When Seneschal had made his exit, Gekkou crossed his arms, smiling more. "If I may, Your Highness, I had one more item of note to share with you."

"Please, just call me Edge," Edge frowned. "This is a little too formal for my taste."

"Well, this is a formal request," Gekkou laughed, and Edge raised an eyebrow. "As you may have heard on your own, _Your Highness_ , there have been some rumblings about what we are to do about Eblan's defenses now that the construction efforts are starting to come together."

Edge tilted his head. "I have heard some of it – but my position has been clear – I want our priority to be the rebuild of Eblan first and foremost. I know people are anxious to throw themselves back into training and militaristic efforts – that's a routine for the majority of our population that has been interrupted for some time, after all. But I'm not excited about the prospect of immediately building up an army once again – I'd rather build up the spiritual welfare of our people, first – by giving them a warm, safe place to live and grow again."

"I understand that," Gekkou frowned. "But surely you realize that the discipline of ninjitsu aids in spiritual welfare as well? Eblan is a very special kingdom, my lord – the hearts of her people are anxious to find comfort in the traditions of old and to know that what is being built anew will be well-protected for the future."

Edge looked down, closing his eyes. Oh, it hurt so very much to hear that – because it was all truthful – and it went flagrantly against the growing fear that had been blossoming in his heart since the day he had confronted Rubicante in the Caverns of Eblan and had been utterly defeated. He had never spoken about his worry aloud before, but for some inexplicable reason, he felt safe making Gekkou of Fire his impromptu confidante.

"But Gekkou…I ask you this…what good did the ninjitsu arts do us before?" Edge asked softly. "We still lost everything…our home, our king and queen, our past…and quite nearly our future. I could not even defeat the archfiend that did this to us by myself – it look the powers of many to rid him of this planet. How can I put my faith in traditions that ultimately failed us all? How am I supposed to know that is truly the road we need to pave for the future of the new Eblan?"

Gekkou pressed his hands together, taking a step forward – Edge heard the click of delicate charoite prayer beads dangling from his wrists.

"You are still hurting from the assault the war waged upon your heart, Edge – that much I can see. If you cannot yet bring yourself to pour your faith into such a path, then pour it into me instead, and let me take some of the burden away from you."

"…I'm not sure what you mean."

"There are others who feel the same as me – who don't want to watch all of the old Eblan fade away – who still believe we can be all we were before but _also_ evolve into something new. I agree with you – we should be focusing on getting back on our feet as swiftly as possible, while we have the aid of the new friendships you have gifted Eblan and fortuitous weather. But there is a need to protect that future we are building – maybe ninjitsu isn't the only way, but I know in my heart it's at least _part_ of that way. Let me prove it to you, by granting me the leave to do so once the rebuilding effort is done."

Edge stood up from his throne, his fingers drumming on his hips. "You want me to give you carte blanche in developing our kingdom's military?"

"N-No…nothing like that!" Gekkou gasped, raising his hands. "I merely want to assist you in raising up the future Eblan – but at the same time, I wanted to be forthcoming about my feelings in regard to how I feel the ninjitsu arts should play a role. You could think of it more like a master-servant relationship, if that's simpler. You are undoubtedly the most powerful ninja in the kingdom now, after all."

"Hmmmph," Edge shook his head, turning away. "That's…that's more of the Gekkou I remember."

"Huh?" Gekkou blinked.

"I'm not in the market for a servant," Edge muttered, "Or for a bunch of lackeys to suck up to me. But if things are as you say they are, it may be wise for me to have someone like you learn how to become my eyes and ears in the field, so-to-speak. Eblan is no longer an isolated entity – we're the newest debutante at the world's ball, thanks to the war that embroiled the entirety of the planet. If there are others who truly feel the same as you, then you should have no problem establishing yourself as their leader…right?"

"Your Highness…"

Edge raised his chin defiantly. "Back to that? You used my name just moments ago…what happened?"

Gekkou shook his head. "I think between that moment and now, the nature of our relationship changed yet again. If you are being serious about honoring my request, I will call you "Master Edge" henceforth."

"When have I ever not been serious!?" Edge exclaimed. Gekkou stared at him blankly, and Edge scratched the back of his head.

"Er…OK, forget I asked that. Fine, fine, call me whatever you want – as long as the job gets done, I don't care if you call me Queen Rosa. Now, is that all we have to discuss for the night? This has turned into something far more than I had the mental capacity for."

"Yes, Master!" Gekkou smiled. "I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time. Please have a good night."

"…You as well," Edge replied warily, and watched as Gekkou took his exit. Edge shook his head, collapsing back down into his throne and swinging his legs over the arm. The thought of climbing all the way up into the top of the unfinished tower his well-guarded room was tucked away in was suddenly very exhausting – he could make do with sleeping in here for the night. Curling his body so that his head and shoulder pressed against the back of the throne, Edge closed his eyes and let out a low, steady exhalation of breath, his entire body deflating and shrinking within the frame of the throne.

 _As happy as I am to see someone like Gekkou eager to play a role in Eblan's development…there's surely no way that simpering boy from school will be able to get anyone to buy into his vision…right?_

* * *

 _Current Day_

 _But Gekkou did it,_ Edge ruminated as he stared at his bedchamber ceiling. _I nearly fell out of my throne from laughter when the first person he brought to me who said he wanted to join the cause was a fifty-something year-old man who wanted to learn how to become a ninja and who hadn't even lifted a shuriken his entire life. I told Gekkou that if he were being serious, that he should try to recruit someone like Izayoi – she had impressed me with her in-depth espionage that she had conducted by herself all around the world after fleeing Rubicante, and had single-handedly ensured her cousin's and her own survival during the attack. I thought she would be a hard nut to crack – she was a rebellious teenager who could manipulate most anyone she wanted into doing her bidding – but when she pledged her allegiance to what they had started calling the Eblan Three – I realized Gekkou was going to do whatever it took to see his dream through – and that there were people out there that actually believed in him._

Edge sat back up in bed, shaking his head, which now felt slightly less overstuffed with unwanted thoughts. This was driving him crazy, sitting here and doing nothing like this – and really, what could he say to his people right now about the moon? Absolutely nothing of importance…what he needed to do was talk to someone like Cecil – had he awoken and seen the moon yet?

Edge glanced over, noticing that his window was still open from his great escape earlier that morning. Before he could stop himself, he crossed the room, easing himself back through the window and this time, instead of running toward the castle keep across the roof, he instead climbed further up the tower, hauling himself up onto a parapet that gave him an unobstructed view of the western Eblan Desert. The climb was fluid and effortless – Edge hadn't realized he had gone anywhere until he found himself perched upon the parapet.

For nearly fifteen minutes, he stared listlessly before him, observing the Tower of Babil as the ceaseless desert winds stung his watering eyes. He made no motion to protect his face, daring to not even blink as he slightly shifted his weight to his other foot, sand grinding beneath his boot. The slight glow that had seemed to embrace the tower that morning was gone – although Edge was still not entirely convinced it had been there in the first place.

It wouldn't be the first time in his life he thought something existed that no one else could see.

 _Why am I out here again?_ Edge frowned. _For just a moment, it felt like something was calling to me…_ Just as he was about to give up and start climbing back down from the secret spot, Edge saw a flash of red light out of the corner of his eye. It had only been for a second – but when he turned his head, he had been able to see the tower's normally ivory façade glow a bright, menacing red. It now faded back to the gentle glow he had observed upon waking, unnoticeable to anyone else who had not become as obsessed with the tower as himself in the last seventeen years.

* * *

By evening's fall, Edge was visibly jittery with impatience – he could feel his eye involuntarily twitch whenever he heard footfalls that he thought might be one of the Eblan Four returning home, but had turned out to be one of the many stray cats in the castle that kept the desert mice population in check. He had played the role of obedient king for the remainder of the day, having eventually retreated back to his throne room to conduct the day's business that didn't involve stealth moving of funds or lad rags. He had entertained the worries and queries of a few soldiers and villagers who had wandered in to question the return of the moon with a graciousness that made Seneschal's eyebrows leap so high that they nearly stuck to the ceiling.

"Your Young Highness, are you quite alright?" Seneschal questioned when another villager had taken their leave. "Is it too hopeful for me to think that this morning's lecture was the one that finally sunk into that thick skull of yours?"

"Alas, it is too hopeful," Edge frowned, shaking his head. "I've heard no word from the others – at a minimum, I would have thought Zangetsu would have returned home by now – I kept him the closest to Eblan for a reason. What do you think is going on?"

"They're doing what you requested of them, Your Highness," Seneschal said gently, planting his hand over Edge's shoulder and squeezing with a paternal affection. "It's good that you are worried for them – it means you care about what is most important. But you need to have faith that they are doing everything that needs to be done – it's not in a ninja's blood to leave any stone unturned."

"I just can't shake the feeling that something big is happening – or already has happened – right under our noses. The wheels have started turning…what is it that I'm missing?"

 _Cecil…Rosa…Rydia…I'm worried about you too…but I can't put my finger on why._

"Your Young Highness…" Seneschal sighed. "Please, don't do this to yourself. It will be time for dinner soon. What would you like to do?"

"I'll dine alone tonight," Edge muttered. "I need some time to think."

"I'll take care of the arrangements," Seneschal offered, pulling his hand away. "You did the right thing, sending the Eblan Four in your place to check on the crystals. You are needed here, my lord – I know you don't think that, but it was good for your people to be able to see you today. Things are different from when you were a prince – people look up to you now and need you."

Edge turned away, leaning his cheek into his hand. Seneschal quietly took his leave, and the throne room was steeped in silence once more. A half-hour later, there came a swift knock on the door, and before Edge could grant entry, it flew open, revealing a harried Lady Chisaki, clutching a silver tray with white knuckles. She kicked the door shut behind her and practically threw the tray at Edge, her nostrils flaring.

"What's your problem!?" Edge cried, just barely managing to leap from his seat and grab the food before it exploded all over him. "And since when do you work in the kitchens?"

"I intercepted the maid," Chisaki huffed. "Since Seneschal made it explicitly clear that no one was to disturb _His Highness_ this evening."

"Mmmm, I guess there still is some venom yet in those old fangs," Edge grinned, retrieving an apple from the tray and taking a large bite. The snap of the apple's flesh being torn apart rang throughout the chamber like a rebel yell. "Since you took the time to disobey my orders, I'll reward you with my undivided attention. What can I do for you?"

"What were you thinking, sending my son to Mysidia on a whim, with this wicked moon's return?" Chisaki seethed, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "And why did I have to find out he had been deployed on a mission from a random guard who saw him leave? Is Izayoi at least with him?"

Edge chewed the apple slowly and methodically, his eyes never leaving hers. Finally, he swallowed, right when he thought her head was about to explode clean off her shoulders like a Bomb.

"He wanted to go."

"Liar!" Chisaki hissed.

"No, really!" Edge laughed, shaking his head. "Come on, Chisaki – he's practically a grown man now, and he's spent plenty of time in Mysidia before – he loves it there and knows it as well as Eblan. There was no one better suited for this mission. Izayoi is in Troia – he doesn't need a babysitter."

"But he's normally not in any kind of danger in Mysidia," Chisaki moaned. "I know you think it's cute, doting on my Lapin's desire to learn black magic even though you and I both very well know his place is here, where he will actually be successful with his natural talents for ninjitsu – but to send him so far from home when this moon has returned? You overstep your bounds."

Edge could feel his heart skip a beat – of course he had known Tsukinowa could be in danger this time – anyone too close to the crystals could have been. The crystals and the Tower of Babil held a sinister symbiotic relationship, after all – when they were combined, the celestial path that connected the Blue Planet to the Moon was blown wide-open – an ample opportunity for invaders.

Chisaki pounced on the hesitance she saw flicker in Edge's eyes.

"If anything happens to him, I'll…"

"I know, I know, you'll slit me from my belly to my throat," Edge muttered, pushing his dinner aside and standing up. "But the only person responsible for Tsukinowa's life is Tsukinowa – you need to remember that. You were once a ninja too, you know. Would you have held your master responsible for any of your foolish decisions? Tsukinowa signed up for this life when he joined the Eblan Four, and this is what you signed up for when you decided to become a parent in the first place. What if he doesn't want to stay in Eblan when his training is complete? You can't stop him. He's not bound by anything to stay – things are different now."

Chisaki looked down, her bejeweled hair ornaments sinking forward morosely in her pile of ebony hair. Edge sighed, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her. Surprised, she blinked, her tears splashing her cheeks as her head slumped against his shoulder.

"If you had your own child…you would understand…to watch someone you love disappear from your life over and over, not knowing if this will be the last time…that's not something our training ever prepared us for."

"…I do understand," Edge said softly, closing his eyes and pressing his hand between the hollow of her shoulder blades, his fingers sinking into the worn silk of her gown. It was the color of polished emeralds – he imagined his fingers twisting around verdant tendrils, the cloying scent of hyacinth and mist drowning his senses as a flash of ruby danced in the corner of his eye.

* * *

 _She_ had come to visit him again – after sixteen long years, a lithe phantom steeped in moonlight. He could sense her before he felt his body sway from the slight impression her knees made against his sinking mattress. When Edge opened his eyes, she was kneeling before him on his bed, her gaze flashing as she silently crawled forward, a spill of emerald framing both her heart-shaped face and the swell of her breasts wrapped in green satin.

 _"Rydia…!"_ Edge breathed, not daring to move. He knew what was coming next – sixteen years had done nothing to erase the recollection of their encounters – delusionary or otherwise. Settling against the cushion of his down-filled pillows, he watched as her ivory fingers extended toward his face, delicately tracing the curve of the white scar bisecting his brow before curling around his throat, her thumbs running over his windpipe as gingerly as one would brush the keys of an ancient piano.

"Why now?" Edge whispered, but of course, she didn't reply – she never did. Her lips tugged up in a half-smile as she began to apply pressure with her fingers, her nails leaving half-moon indentations in his flesh as her thighs straddled his hips to keep him pinned firmly in place.

 _It hurts…!_ Edge clenched his eyes shut, squirming helplessly against her as fire filled his lungs. His flailing hands found her waist, but despite all of his efforts, he couldn't move her one inch – the oxygen was now failing to flow into his bloodstream, and his muscles were ignoring the feeble commands bleating from his brain.

"Rydia..." Edge gasped one last time, knowing that any moment, the beautiful black curtain of oblivion would fall upon him, and it would be over. But this time, he dared open his eyes once more – it had been so long since he had seen her – and felt a blistering scream rise in his throat.

Her face was mere inches from his as she arched over him – the tips of their noses practically touching, and he could see the fair spray of freckles that danced over the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were scintillating amber headlamps, and he could see a pulse of red throbbing deep within her pupils – beating with the rhythm of his dying heart.

* * *

Edge shot up in bed, the scream tearing through the silence of his bedchamber like alarm bells. He clasped his hands to his mouth, panting as trails of sweat dripped down his temples.

He was alone – a glance at the clock above his bed indicated it was only midnight. He couldn't remember when he had retired for the evening – the last thing he recalled was saying goodnight to Chisaki, and abandoning his dinner in the throne room.

 _God…damnit…_ Edge slid his fingers through his perspiration-soaked hair, letting out another strangled gasp. He could still feel the burn of her flesh on his, how it had simultaneously thrilled and terrified him to see her once more.

 _But this time…it was different. Her eyes…they weren't the same, yet they were so familiar. Where have I seen those eyes before…?_

Edge leaned over, shoving apart the blackout curtains that he had installed for the ease of sleeping in. Twin pools of moonlight greeted him, turning the sands of the Eblan desert a milky blue. He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. _The moon is getting bigger and bigger. Could that really be the same moon? The one that was home to Golbez and Fusoya – to Cecil's ancestors? Are the Lunarians back?_

 _I wish I could get rid of this unease in my heart. But everything's happening just as it was before..._

 _Just like when Rubicante stormed the castle…_

He swung his legs out of bed, shivering as his bare feet pressed against the cold stone floor. Once again, his gaze was drawn to the window opposite of his bed – still wide-open. It was faint, but he could hear his name drifting on the wind – something, or _someone_ , was calling to him.

* * *

"Your Young Highness? Your Young Highness!"

Seneschal burst into the throne room, his sleeping cap hanging over his face with only one slipper on his foot, the other having been lost somewhere along the way. A guard, one of the ninja foot-soldiers that took turns guarding the throne at night, immediately stood up straighter, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he jerked away from where he had been leaning against the throne. Seneschal hadn't noticed, however – he just immediately ran up to the guard and grabbed his shirt, throttling him like a woman who had just caught her lover with a mistress.

"Where is Master Edge?"

The soldier blinked, wondering if he should pull away or let the Seneschal keep shaking him to help him wake up. "Sir, it is after midnight – he should be asleep in his chambers. What's wrong?"

Seneschal shook his head, as if hearing that the king was sleeping at midnight was the most ridiculous thing in the world. "The Tower of Babil, _that's what!_ "

* * *

 _I knew it! It's back._

A pillar of blood-red light pierced the heavens – this time, there was no coy flicker to make Edge think he was going insane. Shaking his head, he leapt down from the parapet, springing from the balcony of his bedroom to the roof access that would let him drop into the castle keep. If Seneschal wasn't panicking yet, he wanted to at least have the small pleasure of a few hours of non-nightmare infested sleep before he decided what to do.

But sure enough, when Edge burst into the throne room, the Seneschal was already there, drilling a new set of indentations into the bamboo flooring as the poor night guard watched on helplessly.

"Seneschal!" Edge barked, and the elder statesman paused, his eyes the size of saucers.

"Your Young Highness! The tower…!"

"I know, I know," Edge sighed, raising a hand. "I just popped in to make sure you hadn't keeled over from cardiac arrest. Now that I know you're safe, I want you to go back to bed."

"Are you insane!?" Seneschal cried, marching over to Edge and jabbing a finger into his bare shoulder. It hadn't occurred to Edge until just now that he had effectively just paraded through the castle in his underwear – all he had been wearing to bed were linen knee-length braies that were worn through enough to leave little to the imagination if the light hit just right.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Edge made a show of slowly taking in Seneschal's disheveled appearance. "You're in no condition to give me orders. I've got it under control – I promise I'll have a plan in the morning."

"Master Edge…" Seneschal shook his head. "None of the Eblan Four have returned home yet. What kind of plan are you going to be formulating without them?"

 _Still, no one has returned…?_ Edge bit his lip, but quickly pushed the fears that were rushing up within him out of his mind. Now was not the time for panic – he couldn't have an entire castle fearing that the worst had come to pass yet again – there would be no way to control the mass chaos that would ensue.

"Please, just calm yourself and go back to bed," Edge begged, grasping the Seneschal's shoulders. "Just give me one night to think – that's all I need."

"Your-Your Highness…" the guard piped up from the corner, raising his chin. "I know you'll come up with something. You always do. And the castle guard can help with anything in the Eblan Four's place! Just say the word."

Edge smiled coolly, and the Seneschal paused, staring down at his feet. He finally noticed that one of his slippers was gone, and a stain of red crawled up his face.

"Uh…you are right. Again," Seneschal offered, pulling away and shaking his head. "Thank you, Your Young Highness, for taking the time out of your night to seek me out."

"Enough of that crap," Edge sighed, shaking his head. "Just go to bed so I can hear myself think, alright!?" He whirled around, marching back out the throne room and bringing his hands to his forehead.

 _I can't wait for the Eblan Four to return – I'm just going to have to believe that they are OK. At daybreak, I'll be outta here. Rydia was trying to warn me – there's something waiting for me at that tower._

* * *

The next morning, Edge took more care with his dress, fastening on a pair of golden-plated shoulder guards along with his flowing silver-threaded and navy cape, which would serve to hide the collection of weapons he now had on his person. Flexing his fingers in the stiff, violet-tinted genji gloves he had withdrawn from his old armory stash, he swept a small pile of miscellaneous supplies he had tossed on the floor into a leather satchel and strapped it securely across his waist to hang above his obi.

Just as he was about to pass through the castle gates, he heard someone shout his name. Glancing behind his shoulder, he saw Seneschal staring at him forlornly, his hands on his hips.

"Your Young Highness! You _can't_ go off to the tower like you did before! That's your plan – isn't it?"

Edge couldn't help but smile. Seneschal's impeccable timing to mess with his plans was as reliable as the sunrise and the sunset – you could set a clock to it. "I've told you not to worry about me. Besides, I made it back last time, didn't I?"

The Seneschal's face crumpled into a frown. "But Cecil and the others aren't with you now."

Edge turned away wordlessly, pressing two fingers to his chest – his heart was fluttering anxiously through the pressed cotton of his shinobi garb. He could hear the Seneschal screaming after him as he submerged himself into the desert – but he knew despite the bluster occurring that no one would dare come after him. The only people who had ever followed him into the bowels of Babil had been the brave strangers that had saved his life when Rubicante left him to rot – three refugees from Baron and a young survivor of the Mist massacre. Edge hadn't known it at the time, but the moment he had opened his eyes and saw the four strangers staring over his broken form, his life – and Eblan – would be changed forever.

 _You say my friends aren't with me now…but they are. They most certainly are._

The Cave of Eblan, which was actually a series of caverns that concealed an Overworld-level entrance to the Tower of Babil, was nestled to the west of Eblan Castle. Once accessible only by hovercraft if you were not trained in the art of water-walking, the evolution of the tides thanks to the second moon's disappearance from their planet's orbit seventeen years ago had caused the sea to draw back from the old shoreline, revealing a narrow path strewn with tide-polished rocks that shone like glass that would now allow most anyone to access the cave by foot.

Since access to the Tower of Babil was forbidden, and no one had lived in the caverns for many, many years now – Edge had never bothered with returning since he had rushed through the labyrinth of the tower sixteen years ago to save Cecil, Porom and Palom from being murdered by the tower's sentry of clockwork monsters, re-awakened by the mysterious doppelganger who had tried and failed activating the tower without having any of the crystals in-hand.

Although the world outside had certainly evolved throughout the years, the cavern seemed to be exactly the same – a small parcel of the planet that had been immune to time. Since it sharply descended beneath the ocean after you entered from the beach, it was always bone-chillingly cold and damp enough that one was almost always guaranteed to contract an illness if they spent too much time within. It had been a small wonder their remaining population had not been wiped out just by rampant disease when they had been forced to take shelter within.

The staves of painstakingly-dried out driftwood that children would gather from the shores during the day so the adults could burn it for limited periods of time to cook and tend to the wounded was rotting in moldered piles and in sconces that had been hastily installed in the cavern walls – none of it would any longer sustain a fire. Instead, Edge blew to life with a gentle exhalation a cluster of flame in his right hand, outstretching it a few inches so he could see where he was going.

Not that he needed it – his feet were carrying him forward by muscle memory. He couldn't help but laugh bitterly under his breath – it was funny what his body was choosing to let him forget, like his mother's siren voice – and yet he could navigate this hellscape blinded.

Taking a right into a descending path that took him away from the cluster of caverns they had turned into their refugee village, Edge crossed a shallow, narrow lake that filled his boots with stale, briny, algae-tinged water – he could hear the disgusting suction sounds his feet made against his boots echoing throughout the chamber as they lifted from the lake's bottom. In the middle of the water was a small mound of land, not big enough to accommodate more than one average-sized man. Climbing ashore, Edge lowered his hand, the glow of the fire washing over a simplistic gravestone that had been driven into the ground. There were no names etched upon it – not even the Eblan coat of arms.

 _Father...Mother..._

 _You were buried out of sight...just as you requested – ninjas to the end. Don't you ever get lonely, all the way down there?_

Edge shifted his weight, closing his eyes. _And now that tower had been set into motion once again...But why now? How many times will our planet be put under trial?_ He bent one knee, bracing himself against the marker with his left hand while pressing his forehead to the jagged, unfinished stone. _I know what all this means already…if only I had known seventeen years ago what I do now about this wretched tower our family has been guarding our entire lives…_

 _…Would I have been able to save you?_

A mournful howl rang out from deeper within the grotto, shattering Edge's trance and reminding him that he wasn't alone down here – the caverns were surely teeming with more undead than ever before, having been undisturbed for so long. He pressed his lips to the stone, shuddering as a metallic taste that reminded him too much of blood penetrated his tongue.

 _I swear I won't let anyone go through that again!_

He rose, brushing his fingers over his lips as he plunged back into the lake.

* * *

A few hours later, Edge had finally reached his destination – a dead end. His stomach was clawing itself with hunger; he had not been able to find anything worth hunting and eating in the caverns – there was nothing but golems and rotting, reanimated corpses that he made quick work of with his Flame ninjitsu. He collapsed against a wall to rest, fumbling in his satchel to find something to take the edge off his hunger. At last, he found a half-used Potion, removing the stopper and tossing the rest of it back in a way that avoided having as much of it splash on his tongue as possible – god only knew how old it was.

Swallowing and closing his eyes, Edge closed his fingers to squelch the fire he had been using as a torch, and sighed. _I'm back…back to where I first tasted defeat._

This had been as far as he had gotten seventeen years ago when he had chased after Rubicante, having finally gotten a lead on who had attacked Eblan. It had been one of the lowest moments in his existence – Rubicante had quickly struck him down, and didn't even have the kindness to just finish him off – he had wanted Edge to survive the onslaught, to truly suffer through his humiliating defeat. If Cecil and the others hadn't found him, he probably would have dragged himself after Rubicante once more and gotten finished off for good.

A rush of hot air tumbled into the tunnel, stinging Edge's exposed flesh. He opened his eyes sleepily, realizing he had been submerged in a sea of red.

"Huh…?" Edge blinked, looking around. "Am I dreaming…?" A slender shadow was rising up the cavern wall that had contained the hidden entrance to Babil – two sinewy legs, with a tattered cloak fluttering behind them, the shadowy dance echoing the same effect as flames licking the side of a tower. Edge tried to climb to his feet, but felt as if his legs had become paralyzed – his commands could no longer reach them. Sweltering heat swirling around his form like a prison of flame, Edge doubled-over, gasping for breath as his lungs filled with thick, ropy smoke.

"Rubicante!" he gagged, and everything went dark.

* * *

"Isn't it a little cold for you to be out here without a coat?"

He watched as Rydia bolted upright, fat snowflakes tumbling from her curls as she frantically looked around to see where the voice had come from. Finally, she looked down and saw him standing in a pool of moonlight, her eyes narrowing.

"And what exactly are you doing here? Sneaking about, as usual, I presume…"

Edge grinned, leaping for the branch of a nearby tree and using it to propel himself upon the rooftop with the ease and grace of a professional gymnast. Plopping down next to her without ceremony, she rolled her eyes, scooting over a few inches to accommodate his lanky frame. Edge stuck his tongue out, catching a snowflake and delighting as it melted down into a petite puddle.

"I thought the Misty Valley didn't get snow?"

"It doesn't, usually," Rydia said softly. "But I was telling the kids about my adventure to Baron to see Prince Ceodore a few weeks ago, and I realized that none of them had ever seen snow before. None of them have ever left the valley – they're far too afraid of the outside world, even more so than when I was a child here. I told them if they were good, they would get a surprise tomorrow morning." She raised her arms, which were wrapped in a green satin cloak. "So I summoned Shiva and asked for a little favor."

Edge shook his head, smiling. She was so damn cute, it almost hurt him to look at her.

"That's really sweet. They're gonna be really happy tomorrow morning, thanks to you."

Rydia shrugged, lowering her arms and clutching her knees to her chest. "So, have you seen the baby yet?"

"What baby?"

"…Prince Ceodore, of course."

"Oh, er…" Edge laughed nervously. "Well, babies aren't really my thing, you know?" Rydia shot him a dirty look, and he grimaced. "Don't worry, I sent them my congratulations as soon as I heard! I'm not a monster."

"I thought that might have been why you were up in these parts," Rydia said, raising her eyebrows. "Cecil and Rosa are your friends…you really should see them in-person. I'm sure they're anxious to introduce Ceodore to his Uncle Edge."

"U-Uncle…?" Edge flushed. "I don't know…" Finally, Rydia smiled, giggling under her breath.

"Sorry for making you uncomfortable…Although it _would_ be cute if he called you that. He doesn't have his real uncle around, so someone is going to have to play the part, right?"

"Ah…I guess he doesn't…poor kid," Edge mimicked Rydia, wrapping his arms around his legs. "That's gonna be one hell of a conversation if he ever asks about the Harvey family tree…am I right?"

"On the contrary – I think Ceodore is incredibly lucky," Rydia frowned. "Born into a family who already thinks the world of him, who will never know a world of strife and war, a prince who will be well-loved by his people…If I could be reborn, I'd want all that too."

"What are you talking about?" Edge blinked. "You've got all that _now_ , and you're old enough to appreciate it. Well, minus the royalty part…but there are ways to change that." He grinned, giving her a wink, but all she could do was stare at him dead-eyed.

"…What exactly do you mean?"

"I…" Edge flushed, pushing his hair behind his ear. "Well, I mean…Asura and Leviathan…they're your family, right? And Cecil, and Rosa…Kain too, I guess…we've all become family, in a way. And the Mist villagers absolutely idolize you…I've seen it every day I've visited. And this peace…you've earned it, Rydia. You _fought_ for it. It's time for you to finally enjoy it. That's why I wish you would spend more time in the Overworld – so you could really see how much happiness you've brought so many people."

"Ha…" Rydia shook her head, tears springing in the corners of her eyes. "…I don't think spending time here will be much of a problem anymore."

"What…?" Edge leaned in, brushing his hand over hers. "What's that supposed to mean?"

But she didn't reply. Instead, she lifted her gaze, focusing on the shining gravestone that had been erected next to a now frozen-over pond.

* * *

 _What? What's going on here!?_

Edge groaned, his eyelids feeling like sandpaper as he slowly forced them open. He was curled up in a heap on the cavern floor, but other than feeling like he had been kicked tirelessly in the stomach, he seemed fine. As he sat up, he checked himself for cuts and bruises – none of which could be found. None of his weapons or equipment had been stolen, either.

 _Was that really Rubicante I saw, or was I suffering from some sort of delusion…?_

 _And that dream…why am I remembering something like that from nearly fifteen years ago?_

He wondered how much time had passed – it felt like he had slept for _days_. However, there was no easy way for him to check – backtracking to the castle wasn't an option at this point – he had to resume his mission and break into the tower to see who, or what, was attempting to activate it.

Closing his eyes, Edge quickly chanted the spell that would briefly break the illusion cast over the cavern wall before him. There was a flash of light, and a warped sector of space flickered before him, revealing a watery blur of bright white and pulsing blue lights. Stepping through the light, Edge found himself inside the Tower of Babil, staring down a long, empty hallway that he knew would deposit him in the belly of the beast, so-to-speak. Releasing the spell, the wall behind Edge became solid once more, ensuring no one could follow him.

 _I'd never imagined I'd be going through here again_ , Edge smirked to himself as he made his way down the hallway, his now-dry boots clicking cleanly against the shiny white glass tiles. _I wonder if any of the mechanical beasts they keep in here are custodians? Place looks really good for not having been touched in sixteen years._

A spiraling tower comprised of revolutionary technology supposedly once built by the Lunarians themselves, the Tower of Babil spanned both the Underworld and Overworld, with the true entrance lying underground a short walk from King Giott's castle. For generations, Edge's family had guarded the tower – at the time, no one had known where the true entrance was, since it had not been known there was an Underworld in the first place – and Edge had used it as a playground as a young man when he discovered the secret to entering the tower on the surface world. Back in those days, none of the hundreds of soulless, never-dying lights embedded in the walls would burst to life; the spotless, glazed ceilings, floors and walls, all made out of the same ethereal glass, were not graced by the presence of monsters, either. It had only been after Eblan's destruction and Rubicante taking over the tower as his headquarters that it had burst to life overnight, fueled by the seven crystals Rubicante's master, Golbez, had seized from kingdoms around the world. After the eighth and final crystal had been stolen, the tower became enshrined in an impenetrable light, and the pathway to the moon had torn the heavens asunder, paving the way for Zemus to extract his revenge on the populace of the Blue Planet.

Edge knew that at the top of the tower resided a crystal room. He decided that was to be his goal – he had to be positive that none of the crystals had made their way here.

With nary a window to be found, Edge had no way of knowing or seeing what was going on in the outside world – he could only pray things were going OK in Eblan without him and that the Seneschal wasn't inciting mass panic quite yet. As he began his ascent, he became more and more suspicious about his lack of company – the last time he had been here, the place had been absolutely crawling with mechanical wraiths that were set to "kill".

It was after a couple of hours that Edge finally encountered his first monster – and it was in the worst possible place to do battle.

He had been climbing a set of narrow glass stairs, where one false step would send him plummeting back to the first floor of the tower where he would take up residence as a blood stain. A pair of Belphegors announced their presence only after it was far too late to run – Edge had to flatten himself against the stairs and cling to them for dear life as the monsters dive-bombed him and tried to pry him from the stairs with their claws.

"Damn!" Edge hissed, wincing as a violent scratch that was ripped open on his forehead caused a trickle of blood to painfully blind his left eye. "Where the hell did you guys come from!?" He closed his eyes, trying his best to summon any shred of concentration he could so he could fire off a Smoke spell to buy him enough time to scramble up the last few stairs. But kept getting distracted every time a new slash tore into his garb and dragged across his leather armor – some of the attacks were getting dangerous close to flesh.

"You better not leave me behind!" a distant voice cried, and Edge felt his legs lift from the stairs as a savage cyclone of wind passed over him. Glancing up weakly with his one good eye, he watched as the twin Belphegors became entrapped in the whirlwind, spinning dizzily until their heads were smashed together, their knocked-out bodies dropped without ceremony and crashing into the glass below with a loud shatter. Edge's legs promptly fell back to the stairs, and he pushed himself up on his elbows only to see Tsukinowa standing before him at the head of the stairwell, grinning wickedly.

"Tsukinowa!" Edge exclaimed. "You're still in one piece."

Tsukinowa extended his hand, and Edge took hold of it, allowing the boy to drag him the rest of the way up the stairs to the next floor. "Mysidia's magic has nothing on our ninjitsu," Tsukinowa smiled. "Not even the most powerful mage in the world could cast a Gale spell like that."

"Of course not!" Edge grinned, and they bumped fists.

"Let's go, Master!" Tsukinowa gestured for Edge to follow him. "The others are waiting for us!"

"The others…?" Edge scrambled to catch up with him, shaking his head and reaching up with his scarf to swipe the blood away from his eyes. "I don't understand…how did you even get here in the first place?"

Tsukinowa spun around so that he was walking backwards while he was talking to Edge. "Unfortunately, I was the last one to return home tonight. When I arrived, Gekkou, Zangetsu and Izayoi were in a panic. Seneschal had said you fled to the Tower of Babil on your own, and he had forbid them from following you."

"What!?" Edge blinked. "Why in the world would he do that? I would have thought he would have loved to sic some babysitters on me."

"I don't know the details," Tsukinowa shook his head. "But apparently, monsters began flooding the Eblanese desert from the underworld. The others had been fighting them off before I got home so that they couldn't reach the castle. Maybe that was why Seneschal didn't want them to go after you."

"What!?" Edge froze in place, his fists clenched. "That many monsters that Eblan needed the three of them to hold the horde back…? How long as it been since I left…?"

"It's been two full days since the moon's return, Master," Tsukinowa frowned, and Edge felt the blood drain from his face.

 _I was knocked out for well over a day in the caverns…what the hell happened to me?_

Tsukinowa, still walking backwards, was approaching a door that Edge knew from his previous romps through the tower would slide open upon contact. But as the whirling of the door's mechanics initiated, Edge saw billows of smoke begin to pour from the widening gap between the floor and the ceiling.

"Tsukinowa, look out!" Edge cried. The boy ninja whirled around just in time to somersault away from a pair of fiery jaws snapping inches from his face. Two Flamehounds emerged through the doorway, fighting each other to get through as Tsukinowa scrambled to his feet, running to Edge's side. Edge summoned a Flood spell, crashing waves of crystal water briefly immobilizing the monsters as he reached to his belt to retrieve Masamune and Murasame and finish them off.

"Tsukinowa, stay back…!" Edge hissed, when another tidal wave, this one as tall as the ceilings, burst forth from the east, slamming the Flamehounds into the wall and promptly electrocuting them as the water shattered the glass walls and drowned the circuitry the monsters were pinned against. The Flamehounds collapsed in a smoking, steaming heap, bursting into wet, clay-like ash that splattered over the now-disabled and permanently open doorway.

"Master, you overexert yourself."

Izayoi joined them from the floor above, forgoing the now-available stairwell as she leapt down and promptly swept into a bow before Edge. Edge shook his head as she rose, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder and resting her hand upon the curve of her hip.

"Izayoi! You're here too!"

Izayoi tilted her head, pursing her lips. "As you can see, I've completed my mission in Troia and have returned to you. Hopefully you won't treat me like a woman any longer, Master."

Edge's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? After everything that has happened, that's the line you want to open with?" Tsukinowa snickered behind his fingers.

Izayoi cocked an eyebrow. "I place my status as an Eblan ninja above my gender. Perhaps I understand a little why you sent me to Troia, but…" She shook her head. "I have an unwavering expectation that future missions make better use of my skills, not the fact that I have breasts and a..."

Tsukinowa turned bright red as Edge made an odd choking sound. Forget about his weird blacking out spell in the caverns…what the hell had happened to _her_? "You've gone crazy, woman."

Izayoi took a step forward, yanking Edge forward by how cowl and pressing up on her tiptoes to stare him in the eyes with her trademark ice queen glare. " _Not_ woman. Ninja."

"R-Roger that," Edge gulped, trying very hard not to glance down and see how closely he and this "not woman" who still _felt_ very much like a woman, were pressed together. Izayoi smirked, releasing him and taking a step back. A sudden crash erupted from the floor above, and she glanced up, biting her lip.

"We must hurry. Zangetsu is trying to clear a path for us…"

"Zangestsu!" Edge followed Izayoi and Tsukinowa as they bolted up the stairs. "Ah, let me guess – he's the one who got you guys into the tower, right?"

"Right!" Tsukinowa smiled. "He turned himself into his famous Human Kite form and helped us sail right on in! With our powers combined, it was no problem blowing out our own VIP entrance!" He giggled as Izayoi shook her head, slightly smiling.

"Master, we wanted to wait until all four of us were together again before we pursued you. It would seem that our respective adventures paint quite the ugly picture for what may fall upon this planet. I fear that war is at our doorstep, and that it's only a matter of time before something terrible happens."

"Mysidia is fearful too!" Tsukinowa added worriedly. "Their most powerful black mage is gone, and they're pursuing someone named Kain Highwind to help defend the village in case there is a battle…but I couldn't quite figure out who they were arming themselves against…"

Edge lowered his eyes, clenching his jaw under the safety of his cowl. _Kain Highwind!? Surely, that can't be right…the man hasn't been heard from in seventeen years…I had assumed he was dead…as has the rest of the world, I would think._

On the next level of the tower, they came upon Zangetsu waging battle against three Proto Clockworks, slender blade-limbed androids that consisted of a round orb screwed onto a squat torso. As a Shock spell lit up the room, the Proto Clockworks began to emit sparks and turn on each other, frantically slicing at each other with their limbs and firing off laser beams that bounced off the walls and ceilings.

"What…!?" Edge gaped at the chaos unfolding before them, and Zangetsu turned, waving his hand eagerly. "Hello, Master! Keep yourself focused! You wouldn't want to get hit by one of these…ack!" Zangetsu screeched as one of the stray laser beams shot through his flowing yellow cloak, setting it aflame. Izayoi quickly put it out using a more delicate version of her Flood spell, and Tsukinowa impaled each of the monsters with a shuriken to the head, finally ending their rampage on each other and causing them to slump to the floor with a sad "boooooop" noise.

Edge pressed his fingers to his forehead, trying to summon some amount of Zen. "Zangetsu! I'm glad to see you're safe…"

Zangetsu smiled, patting Izayoi on the shoulder as thanks for her assistance. "I may be old, my lord, but I am well-experienced."

"I…see that," Edge replied carefully. "Did everything go OK in the Underworld?"

"It did, until I saw the Tower of Babil light up like a beacon," Zangetsu sighed. "I made my way home as quickly as possible, but was shocked to find the desert swarming with monsters similar to those I had fought in the underworld when I emerged on the surface. I couldn't let them reach the castle – so I remained behind and fought all night. Luckily, I had some relief when Gekkou and Izayoi were able to join me."

"He really was amazing," Izayoi offered. "I think those dwarves taught you a thing or two about up-close and personal combat!"

Zangetsu blushed, shrugging. "I still prefer to fight in the air, but…I would be amiss if I stopped learning new techniques at my age, right?"

"Where is Gekkou?" Edge interrupted, and Zangetsu gestured above them with his spear.

"He's just above, Your Highness. We scattered after our arrival so that we had the best chance of finding you. Shall we meet up with him?"

"Absolutely," Edge nodded. "Our destination is the crystal room at the top of this tower. Let's get Gekkou and regroup – I'll explain everything then."

"Yes, Master!" the three of them chanted. Rushing past the still-smoking Proto Clockworks, they took the next stairwell up, which took them to yet another featureless level of the tower. Gekkou was ensconced in the corner of the room, finishing off two Frosthounds that had surrounded him with a Flame spell. As the steam began to dissipate from the monsters' corpses, Gekkou squinted and waved his hands, trying to gain his bearings.

"Master! Is that you?"

"Yes!" Edge called out, and Gekkou smiled, sheathing his battle axe over his back.

"I apologize for my tardiness, sir!"

"No apologies are needed," Edge offered, and the four of them gathered around Gekkou. "Did you glean anything from your journey to Damcyan and Fabul?"

Gekkou frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Unfortunately so. We're dealing with an unknown enemy, Master! And…from what I witnessed, she's very powerful, too."

Edge could feel a violent clench in his stomach. " _Unknown_?"

Gekkou nodded. "I think they arrived here on a meteor from the heavens – the shooting star some reported seeing the night before the moon returned."

"They…what!?" Edge blinked. "That doesn't make any sense…I thought the only way you could come to our planet was by a path created by the interdimensional elevator." Gekkou's eyes widened and Edge tilted his head.

"She mentioned that too, my lord…that very same term. " _Interdimensional elevator_ "…I had no idea what she was talking about…you know what it is?"

"I do…and it's not something good," Edge turned away. "The only thing that is worse than the interdimensional elevator existing in the first place is someone else knowing about it. When all of the world's crystals are gathered in the Tower of Babil, the interdimensional elevator is activated, which effectively opens up a path to the moon. Anyone with the stamina and will can traverse it to cross between the two celestial bodies – and the moon just happens to house some pretty nasty powers that can purge us faster than you can say "uh-oh"."

"But didn't you destroy that threat when you traveled to the moon, Master?" Izayoi asked. "And the Giant of Babil was destroyed too, right? Is there really anyone left on the moon that is a threat to us?"

"I have no way of knowing for sure," Edge shook his head. "That moon has been gone from our orbit for seventeen years. It's too much of a coincidence that a second moon returns to us at the same time as someone trying to fire up the elevator again. Whoever is on it wants that path open – and we're the only ones who can stop them, right here, and right now. Once we've ensured the tower is secure of any threats, we need to get in contact with Cecil and the others – they have to be on full alert to protect the crystals."

Izayoi and Tsukinowa exchanged worried glances, and Edge sighed.

"…What is it?"

"It may be nothing, my lord…" Tsukinowa trailed off.

"…But Baron seems to somehow be already tied up in this," Izayoi added. "Troia…they are openly warning troops that Baron has deployed the Red Wings. There are some citizens who are terrified war is going to break out between the two nations. It would seem that the reason they are in such a hurry to find a new Epopt is because they want full strength in protecting the crystal. And…they are pursuing the power of black magic to aid in their defenses as well."

"And the Elder of Mysidia was seeking out an envoy to Baron," Tsukinowa frowned. "Why wouldn't he send Porom to go to Baron, unless he was afraid she would be in some sort of danger there?"

"…This is insane," Edge muttered. "How could all of this have happened in such a short time…? Were my instincts right? Has the enemy already ensnared their claws in us, and it's already too late?"

"Don't say things like that, Master," Zangetsu said softly. "Our mission is not over yet. Let's finish what you came here to do, and then we can take next steps. We'll support you, no matter what needs done."

Edge looked at each of the Eblan Four, each of which were nodding toward him, a strange tickle in his throat as a stinging sensation pierced his eyes.

"…Thank you, everyone. Let's go."

When they had finally breached the top floor, Edge spotted the familiar metal drawbridge that stretched across the center of the chamber, which was otherwise just a series of walkways that surrounded the perimeter of the room and met in the center, where the bridge would take one to the crystal chamber. He had learned long ago not to look down in this chamber – the dizzying height was enough to end it all if you were not able to keep your wits about you.

The door to the crystal chamber slid open, and a young woman materialized in the threshold with turquoise hair and a gossamer white gown that was rendered transparent in the glowing blue lights of the tower. Gekkou hissed for everyone to duck, and the five of them shrunk behind a pillar in a single line, their backs slammed against the wall.

"It's her!" Gekkou whispered.

"Who?" Edge tugged down his cowl.

"You know her?" Tsukinowa blinked.

"She's the one who came from the meteor!" Gekkou muttered. "I suspect she is one of the enemy leaders! She annihilated a group of Fabulian High Monks in seconds, using magic I had never seen in my life."

Zangetsu peered out from behind the pillar, shaking his head in wonder. "Goodness. She's still only a young girl."

Edge gently tugged on Zangetsu's cloak so that he would turn back around. "So, what's our next move?"

"We must avoid a frontal attack at all costs!" Gekkou hissed.

Izayoi bit her lip. "If you say so, Gekkou, she must be very powerful indeed."

"But we have nowhere else to go – and if she's the enemy, we have to find out what she wants," Edge frowned. "Watch yourselves, everyone. We must act carefully. I'll approach her first and see if she'll talk."

"Master!" Gekkou protested. "Please, for once in your life, listen…!"

But Edge rose from where he was squatting, shaking his head and pressing his finger to his lips. As he continued down the walkway that would take him to the drawbridge, he could feel the same mysterious heat that had enveloped his body before he passed out in the caverns, and halted, watching as the atmosphere around him began to twist and bleed out into a hazy red sheen.

"Edge..."

Edge looked around, his heart throbbing tortuously against his lungs. The Eblan Four were still stuffed in their hiding place, mouths clamped shut. The young woman who was guarding the crystal chamber door wasn't even looking at him – she had turned her back.

"Edge..."

"Who...who's that?" Edge asked softly.

"You cannot win against this adversary..."

"What!?"

"Run...run away from here as fast as you can."

"Run!?" Edge protested. "Who are you?"

Two specters appeared before him – An elderly man with a light silver beard and floppy silver hair, dressed in beautiful violet robes that were studded in jewels, a massive golden crown set upon his head. Next to him stood a woman with a deep frown that revealed soft lines at the corners of her eyes and ruby-red lips. She had red hair pulled back into a twist at the nape of her neck with a silver and sapphire tiara. Her gown was layers of deep blue silk, and a golden fur wrap was twisted around her neck and shoulders.

"F-Father! Mother!" Edge gasped, pressing his hands to his mouth. "Was that you before…? Were _you_ trying to stop me from entering the tower…?"

In a flash of red, the two figures disappeared, only to be replaced by Rubicante's scar-lined sneer and fluttering cloak of flame flapping against his bare, bloodied legs.

 _Rubicante!_ Edge let out a low hiss. He too, disappeared, and the chamber went back to normal, filling with blinding, mechanical white light.

Ignoring Rubicante's little game; Edge marched up to the young woman, who turned to meet him when he was only a few steps away. The first thing he noticed, nearly taking him aback, was how _similar_ she looked to Rydia. They shared the same heart-shaped face, ethereal complexion, and looked to be the same height and build as well. The hair was different enough – Rydia's emerald hair was naturally curly and unruly, while this girl's hair was bluer than green, and fell over her shoulders in delicate waves that looked to be kissed by the wind. When she turned her eyes upon Edge, he felt as if a bolt of lightning had shot through his spine – they were lightless, pulsing amber – the same eyes shining over his strangled form from his twisted dream – and realizing too late, the same eyes as the doppelganger from sixteen years ago…

"Some rats have burrowed their way in, I see," the girl smirked, and Edge frowned. _Rats? Plural?_ He glanced over his shoulder, and much to his dismay, saw Gekkou, Zangetsu, Izayoi and Tsukinowa standing behind him, arms crossed and staring daggers at the girl. He turned back to her, shaking his head.

"You're the one who doesn't belong, I'd say."

"Master! Don't provoke her!" Gekkou hissed under his breath.

The girl tapped her bare foot against the shining tile. "What do you mean?"

Edge took a step forward. "Cut the small talk. Why have you activated this tower? What is your reason for this?"

"There's no use explaining to an inferior species," the girl shrugged. "I would consider _that_ small talk."

"What did you say!?" Tsukinowa cried, and Izayoi bared her teeth.

"You dare look down on us!?"

Edge raised his hand to silence them, his eyes never leaving the girl's. "Inferior species…yes, perhaps you have a point."

The Eblan Four glanced at each other, their jaws on the floor. The girl chuckled, reaching up and twisting a string of rubies and diamonds around her finger that was hanging from her neck.

"You have some sense, I see."

"Well, I do my best," Edge shrugged. "...But you do realize that humans have the power to adapt, right?"

" _Adapt?_ " the girl tittered.

"Don't let your guard down, Master!" Zangetsu cried. The girl shot him a look, licking her lower lip.

"In that case, it would be smart for me to settle this quickly."

"Settle what?" Edge demanded, and the girl pressed her hands together.

"You don't need to know."

A glittering ring of yellow orbs surrounded the girl, and bursting to life before them in a womb of flames was Ifrit, the djinn of fire with pulsing red flesh and long, elegant green horns extended heavenward. Edge took a step back, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Ifrit!? Rydia's Eidolon...What's happened to Rydia!?"

"Who is Rydia? Another rat?" the mysterious girl chortled, and Ifrit reared up on his hind legs, a deafening roar ripping through the chamber as a wall of fire erected itself directly behind the Eblan Four, trapping them on the bridge.

"Ergh!" Edge grunted, watching helplessly as Izayoi quickly sprung into action, trying to drown the flames with her water magic. Unfortunately, she was to learn what Edge already knew – Eidolon magic was far different – and far stronger than any human magic. In a one-on-one battle, they were favored to lose, and quickly.

The girl smiled, raising her hand and delicately curling her fingers. "You may die now. Ifrit…feel free to cremate them or toss them over the bridge…either one works for me."

"Not if I can help it!" Edge cried, extending his arms. "Everyone, grab onto me – _now_!" The Eblan Four complied, grasping Edge's arms as he executed the Smoke ninjitsu. An upsurge of black smoke filled the room, causing the girl to gasp and cover her face while Ifrit looked around confusedly. Edge and the others appeared behind the mysterious girl and directly in front of the crystal chamber. Izayoi waved her hand over the chamber door to get it to open, but paled when she saw it would not budge.

"It's locked!" she whispered.

The mysterious girl whirled around, her eyes flashing as she snapped her fingers. Another wall of flame exploded in front of them, and she teleported through it, crossing her arms over her chest as Edge and the others backed up against the locked doorway.

"You have nowhere to run," she sneered. "This is over."

"You think?" Edge offered her a disarming grin, which made her blink in confusion and briefly made for a distraction.

 _The return of the moon, the reactivation of the tower...My mother and father...and the image of Rubicante...Everything's happening just as it did before!_

"Your bravado ends here!" she cried, raising her hand in the air as crackling electricity began to spark and spit between her fingers.

"No!" Gekkou protested. "That's the same magic she used against the monks of Fabul…!"

"Everyone to me once more!" Edge cried, and when he felt the last pair of hands grab his body, cast Smoke again. The mysterious girl lowered her hand, spinning in a circle as he scanned the chamber. Both ends of the drawbridge were still burning wildly, and Ifrit was squatting between them, patiently waiting for orders. The walkways around the perimeter were empty, and none of the doors had flown open.

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, clenching her fist so tightly that her fingernails tore into the flesh of her palm.

"Trying to escape the inevitable... _Incomprehensible._ "

* * *

"Where are we!?" Tsukinowa blinked, turning his head to cough out some of the smoke that had gotten into his lungs.

Izayoi blew her bangs out of her eyes, glaring at Edge. "It's a dead end!"

"Master!" Gekkou scratched his head – he had reached the same conclusion as Izayoi from his brief investigation. "Why did you bring us here!?"

"Do you have a plan?" Zangetsu asked gently.

Edge was standing in the middle of the crystal chamber, his finger tapping his chin as a small smile curled on his lips. The crystal dais was currently empty – that was a good thing. And if he remembered correctly…Cecil had just been standing just a little more to the left of where Izayoi was when…

He gently took Izayoi's arm, tugging her a few feet forward and nodding. She snatched her arm away, wondering if giving him a hard smack across the face was something a woman or a ninja would do.

A ring of light erupted over the locked doorway, and the mysterious girl stepped inside, shaking her head as the ring collapsed behind her into a glittering starburst.

"What do you have in mind, exactly?" she asked tiredly, and Edge took his position just below the crystal dais.

"Good to see that things haven't changed here, either!" he winked, pressing his foot back against the first of dais' steps. There was a loud click, and the floor fell out from beneath all five of them in one breathless rush. Edge's laughter echoed menacingly as the other ninjas screamed, and the mysterious girl ground her teeth, stomping over to the trap door and peering into the endless depths – all she could see were waves of black.

* * *

Zangetsu was the first to gain his bearings, clutching his cloak and calling out for the others to grab hold of him as they plummeted into the abyss. Once everyone had managed to grab some part of him, he curled his arms upward and arched his back, transforming himself into a parachute that initially shot everyone a few feet into the air before gingerly settling into a smooth, gliding motion. A few moments later, their feet touched the floor, and everyone pulled away, various cheers and sighs of relief ringing out. They had been deposited into a dark, empty room – but a thin line of light could be seen a few feet away against the floor, indicating there was at least an exit.

"A trap door!" Gekkou half-laughed, half-cried, shaking his head.

"This place is like some kind of ninja stronghold!" Tsukinowa exclaimed. "I definitely want to train here someday!"

"Amazing, Master!" Zangetsu smiled, and Izayoi looked up, letting out a shriek as a storm of fireballs began to bounce off the walls of the chute they had just come through.

"She's coming for us!"

"Forget her! Just keep running!" Edge demanded. "I know the way out!" He sprinted toward the door, throwing it open and flooding the room with the artificial light of the new level of the tower they had reached. The others peeled after him, Izayoi dashing away with seconds to spare before another massive fireball crashed exactly where she had been standing.

"Who is that girl, anyway!?" Izayoi huffed as they crossed through a new doorway, this time the staircase plunging downward. Ifrit's roar was unnervingly close – they could feel the stairway railing shake underneath their fingers as they fled.

"A fraudulent summoner," Edge growled, throwing open the new doorway and sending a metal boomerang careening ahead of them before any of them could push through the threshold – the new floor was teeming with Clockwork Soldiers that were all promptly decapitated. Edge reached up, catching the boomerang as he ran forward. "It's just the same as before…but how did Ifrit fall under her control this time?"

" _This_ time?" Gekkou frowned. "Have you met before?"

"If she's who I suspect she is, I would say I have," Edge replied. "But funnily enough, she didn't seem to recognize me…"

"Look out!" Tsukinowa cried. A fresh wall of flame had erupted in front of them, just as they were about to reach a new door. Edge and Izayoi leapt over effortlessly, and Tsukinowa jumped onto Zangetsu's back before the old man launched himself into an improvised jump attack. Gekkou came up from the rear, somersaulting over but nearly falling on his face for the landing – Edge grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet before he could stumble.

"Here we go, you guys!" Edge smiled, his hand grasping a door handle that had been different than all the others. "This is our ticket out of here."

* * *

 _17 years prior…_

As Cecil's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Edge approaching something huge and draped in shadows at the end of a wooden walkway. Running to follow him, Cecil only made it a few yards before Edge let out a loud "WHOOP!"

"All right, we can escape in this!"

"What is "this"?" Cecil asked warily.

There was a popping noise, and Edge held up his hands, revealing that he was cradling a ball of fire to make a light.

"An airship!"

Sure enough, it was an airship before them – they had wandered into a hangar. The stained wood and painted emblems along the port gave away that they had come across a stolen Red Wing ship. Cecil felt a brief tug of nostalgia – it could have even been the ship he had once commanded, before he was stripped of his rank and branded a traitor. Everything looked just as he remembered from his final mission with the Red Wings – which had been the Mysidian massacre.

Rydia had come up behind Cecil, shaking her head.

"But it's an _enemy_ ship."

Edge had blown out the fire and proceeded to release the ramp. With a loud slam, it smacked down into the walkway, causing a pile of dust to burst into the air. "Don't worry, I'm sure she'd rather be flown by us anyway!"

They boarded, and Kain, Rosa and Rydia poked around for suspicious people and items below deck while Edge watched Cecil mess with the controls – Everything really was just like before. Cecil could have flown this ship with his eyes closed – everything was coming back to him.

"You don't suppose this could be a trap, do you?" Rosa asked as she came back upstairs, giving up her hunt. She hadn't found anything out of the ordinary…which seemed even more suspicious. Rydia and Kain followed silently, still waiting for something to jump out at them.

Edge shook his head. "This beauty? Not a chance!"

* * *

 _Current day_

Edge chewed on his lip as he was greeted with…absolutely nothing.

The hanger was completely cleaned out – there weren't even any spider's nests. Edge stood at the edge of the dock, staring listlessly into the darkness with his arms wrapped around himself. Maybe if he thought about it hard enough, an airship would magically appear.

Zangetsu's staff was shaking in his hand. "It's a dead end!"

"We're not going to have any choice but to fight our way out!" Gekkou sighed, and Izayoi whirled around, feeling the telltale scorching heat wave that was the announcement of Ifrit's imminent arrival.

"Master!" Izayoi howled, and Tsukinowa ran up to her, gritting his teeth as he withdrew his twin daggers. He wondered if the others could see his knees knocking together in the darkness.

"Ifrit! I won't let you hurt my cousin – or my friends! I don't care if you're an Eidolon!"

Ifrit crept through the threshold, the mysterious girl floating at his side. She held out her hand, and Ifrit stopped, sitting back on his haunches obediently.

"Are you done?" she asked, and Edge sighed, turning away from the ledge of the dock.

"All right…you win."

The girl smiled in reply. "Ah. So you've finally accepted the inevitable."

Edge shook his head. "I have to admit you got me. There is one thing I'd like to know before I die, though. Do you feel like entertaining a question?"

"It depends on what it is," the girl shrugged. "Try me. I may be feeling generous. Or I may incinerate you."

Edge pressed his lips together, and he swallowed the lump that had been forming in his throat. The entire time they had been running, he couldn't get Izayoi and Tsukinowa's warnings out of his mind. And with everything else that had occurred tonight…he decided that he just needed to be sure. "What's happening to Baron...to Cecil?"

The mysterious girl widened her eyes. "Cecil this, Cecil that…you're another one of his fans, aren't you? In that case, I'm delighted to answer your query. Baron is gathering all of the world's crystals by the order of King Cecil Harvey."

Edge looked away. "Huh, I see. Well, now there's no doubting it."

The girl tittered behind her fingers. "If I may indulge in just a brief observation – I promise, it will only take a moment, and then I'll make sure your deaths are painless as a reward for letting me bend your ear – I just think this is all so very _funny_."

"Funny?" Edge asked testily, and the girl nodded.

"Yes – I've met so many humans these past few days who seem to hold a very high opinion of King Cecil. I've even met humans who claim the opposite, but I can see inside their hearts – and all I can sense is that tasteless sentiment I've learned you call "love". But, despite all of this "love" people have for Cecil, he is a man that is truly, utterly alone in this world – a half-breed with one half of his soul on this planet, the other torn away, released into the infinite universe to forever wander. When he needed help, there was no one by his side, and now, he's…well…" she shrugged. "…Taking matters into his own hands, I suppose. So I guess that either means that human friendships don't actually serve a purpose, or that nobody loves Cecil as much as they'd like to think they do. That's the part that tickles me so when I hear sheep like you bleat on and on about him."

Edge couldn't help it – his mind immediately flashed back to the last night he had ever spent with Rydia, on the roof of her house while the diamond dust snow rained down.

"I thought that might have been why you were up in these parts. Cecil and Rosa are your friends…you really should see them in-person. I'm sure they're anxious to introduce Ceodore to his Uncle Edge."

 _But after that night…I used you as an excuse to stay away…I didn't end up meeting Ceodore until he was at least two years old…why did I think that was OK? Just because my ego was wounded…? Because I thought Cecil and Rosa would take your side…?_

Edge sighed at the bitter memory, taking a step backward toward the ledge of the dock.

"You may think you know everything about humans...but our kind have a little something called _instinct_."

And with that, he fell backwards off of the dock, plunging silently into the darkness below.

"Master!" Izayoi cried. Before she could stop herself, she fled from the mysterious girl and Ifrit, throwing herself over the ledge as well.

Gekkou shook his head, smiling. "I've sworn I'd follow you to Hell…guess now's as good a time as any." He too, jumped, and Zangetsu leapt after him, the sound of his cloak fluttering open as it caught the wind.

Tsukinowa sniffled, taking one last look at the smoke pouring out of Ifrit's nostrils and deciding he would go ahead and take his chances with the rest. He tossed himself over the dock, his screams fading into oblivion as he fell.

"Aaagh!"

The mysterious girl blinked, so stunned at what had just occurred that she needed to sit down. Collapsing onto the dock, she crossed her legs and pressed her lips together, her hair falling over her face.

"Choosing death of their own free will... _Incomprehensible_."

* * *

"So, what do you think? Should we try the hangar, or just storm in from the front?"

"Well, I'm always up for a good ambush…but maybe we should ask our senior battle advisor?"

"… _Stop_ calling me that."

"Well, you won't tell us your name…what else am I supposed to call you?"

 _"CRASH!"_

* * *

"Ow!" Tsukinowa screeched, his head throbbing as he crashed into what felt like a pile of crates. "What…what…!?" He opened his eyes briefly, confirmed that he had indeed fallen into a pile of now-shattered crates, and promptly closed them again. He wasn't dead – that was all he cared about for now.

"Where are we?" Izayoi frowned, climbing to her feet and yanking Tsukinowa up along with her, despite his howling protests. Zangetsu and Gekkou joined her, the latter of which was rubbing the back of his head, where he could now feel a cantaloupe-sized lump forming. High above them, propellers were slicing through the air, and they appeared to be floating over a sea of glowing orange – like the sun had melted into the ocean, and the rest of the sky had turned dark in its absence.

"Is this an airship!?" Gekkou muttered, and they heard a high-pitched shriek belonging to no one they recognized emanate from the ship's bow.

" _Edge!?_ "

Edge was collapsed flat on his face, and Izayoi watched with curiosity as his back twitched with alertness when the woman's voice cried out. The woman in question had been standing at the steering wheel of the ship, stunned into silence when she saw the five ninjas suddenly appear from mid-air and smash into the airship's deck. Next to her was a female dwarf with a stylish bob haircut in a bubblegum pink mechanic's romper, and standing a few feet away, giving off an obvious air of detachment and perhaps a touch of disgust, was a tall, tanned man, wrapped in a black cloak and matching kilt, the rest of his well-cut form blatantly on display.

The girl who had been at the steering wheel rushed to Edge's side, kneeling over him as a veil of waist-length emerald hair slid over her shoulders. Edge lifted his head and pushed himself up by his elbows, smiling dreamily up at her.

 _My daydream maiden…is that really you?_

"Hey, Rydia. I haven't died and gone to heaven, right?"

Rydia blinked, falling back on her rear and shaking her head, still stunned. "What...I mean…why did you just fall out of the sky?" Edge hauled himself to his feet, groaning as he clutched his side, from which a small bloom of blood was seeping through his garb. A pile of contents fell out of his broken satchel, spilling over Rydia's lap. She glanced down, her hands brushing over a thin book that had tumbled out along with half-empty potion bottles and wrapping bandages. When she turned it over and saw the cover, her lips twisted in confusion as a crimson blush stained her cheeks.

"Ah…and I see absolutely nothing has changed since we saw each other last," she muttered, throwing it into his shin and standing back up as he sucked in a very large gulp of air in lieu of a scream.

"Must have grabbed that by accident…" Edge groaned, shoving the magazine in his obi hurriedly and attempting to straighten himself, despite the ache that was now in both his side and his leg. "Anyway, to answer your question, I've recently discovered that history appears to be repeating itself, so I figured if I threw myself out of the Tower of Babil, someone would rescue me. Though I couldn't be sure everything would work out this time…"

Zangetsu tilted his head. "So that...that was a complete gamble on your part, Master?"

Tsukinowa had turned pale, and would have fallen back into the crates, had Izayoi not been clutching his arm. "How could you be so reckless with your own life after all the lectures you've given us!? HYPOCRITE!"

"Yep, that's Edge's key descriptor," Rydia deadpanned, and Edge ignored all of them, turning instead to Luca, who was grinning mischievously at all the delicious drama that was unfolding before her.

"Hey, Luca! I love the haircut. Looking real good there!"

"Well, thank you!" Luca giggled, drinking in his slender build and developing a very sudden appreciation for the Eblanese arts indeed. "Not as good as you are, though."

Rydia rolled her eyes, turning away and pressing her hand to her forehead. Edge peered over her shoulder, finally noticing the man in black who had been staring at them the entire time, never moving an inch.

"Who's that?" Edge blinked, and the man finally lifted his head, pushing a lock of dark silver hair away from his deep violet eyes.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but we don't have time for a reunion right now."

Edge limped over to the man, grimacing as he clutched his side. "Huh!? What is that supposed to mean? Rydia, where did you pick up this guy?" He tried searching the man's gaze, but the stranger quickly turned away, facing back toward the tower. Rydia stared at her feet, and even Luca had gone silent – suddenly, the three of them realized that there was _a lot_ of catching up to do – and none of it was going to be fun.

* * *

 _Mist, 15 years prior_

"It was you who built my mother's gravestone, wasn't it?"

It wasn't really a question, or an accusation – just a matter-of-fact statement with a slight lilt at the end.

Edge followed Rydia's gaze toward the grave – it really had turned out beautifully, exactly as he had imagined when he commissioned it – he couldn't think of a more fitting tribute to the savior mother of Mist Village, and the elder he had commiserated with to make it happen agreed full-heartedly that it was something Rydia would have loved to do, had she had the funds.

"I wanted you – and the village – to have something to remember her by," Edge replied quietly. "Baron and Damcyan were doing everything else, and felt…I don't know, fitting, maybe, that I could do something like that for you instead. I know how much you loved your mother – and I can only imagine she loved you more than the world itself. Being an orphan too…I felt that was how I could best relate."

Rydia pressed her fingers to her lips. When she turned back to Edge, the tears had started flowing down her cheeks. Still, she had not removed her hand from beneath his.

"I thank you for it – truly. I cherish being able to look out upon her every day – it feels like she's still with me, in a way. And I appreciate everything else you've done for Mist's reconstruction, too. I know it has cost everyone so much time, money, and effort. And I know that the reality is, it may even be long after I'm gone that the village is truly able to thrive once again. The future generation has a difficult burden to carry – the children are afraid to venture in the outside world thanks to their parents' fears from the war, but they'll never be able to sustain a life for themselves if they continue to keep Mist isolated from other nations in the years to come. It's…really another level of tragedy when you think of it that way."

Edge nodded. That had been something else he could relate to as well – dragging Eblan out of isolation was far more difficult than he had ever anticipated.

"I'll support Mist for as long as there is breath in my body," Edge pledged. "Maybe all of the work won't be done until long after we're gone, but…I can do what I can now."

"Edge…" Rydia shook her head, sobbing against her hand. "I can't…I mean…I won't ever be able to repay you for something like that. Everyone – and you – you've all been too kind. How could I live with myself?"

"Rydia…you have to know I want to do it, because I care," Edge looked away. "And you wouldn't have to go at it alone, either…how many times do I have to ask before you believe that I'm serious about us?"

Rydia grimaced, pushing her hand through her hair and closing her eyes.

"I'm…I'm really sorry, Edge. I'm still just not ready…I'm not ready to give up on that part of my life yet. It wouldn't be fair to either of us if I ended up living the rest of my life in the Feymarch with the Eidolons while you were obligated to rule over Eblan. It would _never_ work…I just can't promise all of myself to someone, knowing that possibility exists. The path I thought my life was going to take was twisted beyond recognition when the war tore through Mist…I'm still trying to figure out where I belong."

"I get it," Edge muttered, pulling his hand away and rising to his feet. "You don't have to say any more – I know that the first chance you get, you'll go back to the Feymarch, and leave us all again. Did you ever think that the reason why you don't feel at home in the human world is because you won't give it a chance? You do realize you ARE human, right Rydia? Nothing is ever going to change that, save for reincarnation."

"Your commentary on the subject is unnecessary," Rydia frowned. "It would do well for you to remember that you have no idea what you are talking about."

"You're not the only one who is confused," Edge snapped. "I thought…I thought you cared about me too, if only a little bit."

"I do care for you!" Rydia cried. "And that's precisely why I can't play these games! If _you_ cared for _me_ as much as you say you do, you would trust that I am telling you the truth, and let this all come in time."

"I…I don't exactly have time!" Edge sighed. "Rydia…you understand my position, right? I'm a king now…and there are certain expectations. They want me to find a partner, they want me to have an heir – there are obligations that even I haven't figured out how to tactfully weasel my way out of, yet. I'm working on it, but…"

"It is exactly because I understand your position that I can't rush into anything. I…I just can't see myself being a queen, and being tied to the surface world forever. I'm sorry…I'm not someone like Rosa. It's not something I can _ever_ envision for myself."

"So, that's it, then?" Edge shrugged, a bitter laugh escaping his throat. "We just go around and around in circles until one of us decides to give up our future for the other?"

"I don't want that for either of us," Rydia said softly, and Edge turned to her one last time, smiling sadly as he bent down to lift her chin.

"I don't either. And being that is the only thing we can agree on…" he tapped the tip of her nose gingerly, and pulled away. "…Then I guess there is only one way this can end." He leapt down from the roof, landing effortlessly in the snow and brushing the flakes off his cloak before pulling it over his head and disappearing in a cloud of snow-strewn smoke.

"Edge…" Rydia pulled her legs against her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she exhaled deeply. "I'm so sorry…Asura may have sent me away…but I'm not ready to give up on the Feymarch yet…with everything that has been stolen away from me – I need to make sure I've exhausted my every last chance at happiness."

 _Being by your side, along with Cecil, Rosa and Kain…if I could ever replicate that feeling…I think that would be enough…but we live in a world now where that will never happen again._


	23. Act Twenty-Three: Kain's Tale

Act Twenty-Three: Kain's Tale | The Devil You Know

 _Mount Ordeals, the day before the moon's return_

Kain Highwind was kneeling over a small puddle of water; It had materialized thanks to a series of storms that had ravaged the Mysidian continent for the past few days – a rare adornment on Mount Ordeals that had not yet been touched by death or decay. At last, there had been a break in the weather, and the sun was shining brilliantly in a cloudless, cobalt sky. In the backdrop of the mountain, Mysidia's northern seas glittered and danced beneath the sun's rays – extending an enticing invitation for a sailor or a brave swimmer. Those cerulean waves had been long-burned into Kain's memory; when he stared at his reflection in the puddle, he briefly saw the visage of his best friend staring back up at him, with despondent, crystalline eyes that were the same color as the seas – no, the same color as the Blue Planet itself…

 _"Cecil…"_

Something stung painfully within as the name left his lips – he hadn't even realized he had spoken aloud until he felt the familiar ache in his side – like someone had jabbed a needle between his ribs. Dousing his hands in the water broke the spell – Cecil's face disappeared, and was replaced by a rippling, twisted apparition. Kain's azure gaze blocked it all out as he closed his eyes and splashed the water over his face. A sigh escaped as the grime and sweat from the morning's hike trickled away.

He had arisen far earlier than usual – the nightmares had been getting so painfully intense as of late that his mind's only defense against their assault had been sharpening their terrifying lucidity so that he became self-aware that he was even dreaming in the first place. Once he had achieved peak lucidity, he could force himself to wake – but getting back to sleep after was an impossible ask, even as the exhaustion compounded day over day.

Today, his hike had taken him far as the base of the mountain – the closest he had allowed himself to get without the purpose of hunting in the woods or in a rare fit of desperation, stealing into town to obtain something he could not otherwise get or make on his own. It was a foolish dare – although the gothic mystique of Mount Ordeals was enough to keep people from actually climbing it on a regular basis, it didn't necessarily mean gawkers and hunters wouldn't be in the foothills and forests that were at the mountain's forefront. He hadn't taken care to fashion any kind of disguise when he set out that morning, so it would have been painfully obvious to all but the dullest of wits that a dragoon was hanging around Mount Ordeals. And since dragoons only hailed from one kingdom – the mightiest kingdom on the surface of the planet, at that – word would surely reach the king's ears sooner rather than later…things would spiral out of control from there.

This was everything that had run through Kain's mind in the fraction of a second he had stood at the mountain's base. If he took just one step forward, he would have officially left the mountain's path, and rejoined the world of the living. But instead, he turned his back to the distant meadowlands, clutching his lance miserably.

 _I can't leave this mountain. Not yet..._

And so, he had climbed back to the summit, where he had promptly collapsed in front of the puddle in hopes that the cold, clean water would shake him awake. He really didn't want to spend the entirety of the day sleeping – daylight, especially on clear days like this, was always when he needed to be the most alert to his surroundings.

"You..."

Kain lifted his head, blinking away the water droplets clinging to his eyelashes as he lowered his hands to his lap.

 _Was that a voice I just heard…?_

He couldn't remember the last time he had heard a voice besides his own outside of his dreams – it had been months since he had been to town.

Kain climbed to his feet, his dragon's head helmet pressed against his hip. His throat cracked as he reluctantly called into the wind. "Who's there...?"

There came no reply. Everything appeared to be the same as usual – Kain had favored Mount Ordeals' summit as his primary campsite for a variety of reasons, the most obvious of them being that it afforded him the best views of what was going on in the surrounding area and because it was the hardest part of the mountain to reach. Because he had spent so much time there, he could tell when even a single rock was out of place – even the mountain's undead that were Kain's unwilling roommates would dare not approach the summit any longer, for they had learned that a visit to Kain's lair would result in their head on a pike.

 _There's no way there's someone else here besides me,_ Kain thought, shaking his head. _The lack of sleep is starting to get to me…_

As he reached up to fasten his helmet back onto his head, taking care not to ensnare the ponytail that hung limply to his waist, he thought he heard the voice again – this time, it echoed menacingly inside his helmet, fading in and out like a heartbeat.

"Dragoon..."

Kain's jaw clenched as he snapped the helmet closed – he was plunged into darkness until he reached up to the crown of his helmet, adjusting a small switch that revealed two crystal-screened eyeholes that had been custom-cut for him ages and ages ago. _I'm sure I heard it…It was faint, but there was definitely a voice…_

Still brandishing his lance, Kain crossed the ancient rope bridge that took him to the western station of the summit. The small tent he had set up that now officially consisted of more mended pieces than the original canvas was clearly empty – the entryway flap was lifting precariously in the wind. The fire he had built the night before was untouched, and since all of trees that had once managed to sustain some kind of life on the mountain were now petrified and barren of any leaves, it was easy to see that nothing was hiding above.

The voice called out again – this time, it was almost as if someone were whispering in his ear. "You will..."

Kain pressed his lips together, muttering inside his helmet. "…It's close."

All that remained on the summit was the shrine: A slab of marble surrounded by a circle of lightless crystals that were embedded in the ground, with a final crystal debossed in the stone itself, flattened to make a tiny window. At one point, it had looked like there had been a hidden door installed within the stone – perhaps for incense or a place to tuck ashes – there was an imprint of where one could curl their fingers, but Kain had tried many times to pull it open with no success. Never in the entirety of his time on the mountain had Kain ever seen the shrine alit – even when the full moon had reached its zenith, the crystals failed to shine. The closest he had ever come to witnessing any activity was an unusually cold summer night sixteen years ago. He had woken up from a nightmare – imagine that – and had sworn he could hear someone calling for a dragoon, just like now. When he had investigated the shrine that night, he could see the tiniest mote of light fading away deep within – but the wind had snuffed it shortly after, and the voices stopped.

 _Is it coming from this monument again?_ Kain wondered, cupping his hands around the crystal window. _I never figured out what happened sixteen years ago…And that voice was so familiar. Was it Cecil calling for me?_

"You, too, will..."

Kain cried out as a blinding aura suddenly erupted from within the shrine like a starburst, the light burning his face and hands that were impressed upon the shrine. His body was thrown backwards, and he realized with horror in his blinded state that he could no longer see or feel the ground beneath his feet – he was tumbling over the summit's edge. He felt himself falling backwards through the air, and braced himself for a bone-shattering crash into one of the lower cliffs – if he was lucky.

Instead, he landed with the melodious chorus of a thousand crystal goblets coming together at a toast, his armor bouncing against something delicate and smooth that sent him sliding forward.

Blinking slowly to banish the agonizing spots of light that had fried his eyes, he found himself transported to an enchanting crystalline chamber. It wasn't quite like the shrines one would find dedicated to the crystals that kept their planet in harmony – it was even more decadent and splendorous. Three of the four walls that housed him were embedded with hundreds of glowing crystals of all colors, prisms of rainbow reflecting off the mirrored ceilings and floors as the crystals gently pulsed in a synchronous, steady rhythm – Kain realized with wonder that they were timed with the beating of his heart. The floor beneath his feet reflected not only his own form, but appeared to be alit with blinking beacons and twinkling lights – he was reminded of the final chamber in the depths of the moon's core that had housed the glass coffins of thousands of sleeping Lunarians that were glimmering in deep space, star-like.

The wall directly in front of him was the only one that was made entirely out of plain mirrored glass – just like what the crystal daises were carved out of in the crystal chambers. As he lifted his head, his reflection followed suit, and as he stood, his reflection mutely stood with him.

"Was the voice coming from here...!?" Kain asked aloud, and this time, he was answered, the voice booming from above, but fading in and out with hissing static like a poor radio transmission.

"You, too, will... _intense pain_...Just as my... _did before_..."

"What?" Kain blinked. "Who's in pain? Does someone need help?"

"The end of..."

The pulsation of the crystals' light began to speed up dizzily – Kain realized that the roaring rushing through his ears was his heart hammering in his chest – he was _afraid_. A ripple emanated from the center of the mirror, and Kain watched as his reflection smiled and pressed his palms to the glass – but the real Kain was frozen in terror, and hadn't moved an inch.

"W-Who are you?" Kain gasped.

Another ripple scattered across the mirror, and the reflection's left hand extended outward into the crystal chamber, a lance materializing between his fingers with a flash of light. Kain finally shook himself of his paralysis, stepping away slowly as his doppelganger fully emerged from the mirror, his smile widening into a malicious grin. Rolling his shoulders back until a sickening crack rang out in the chamber, the reflection silently raised his lance in the air, bending his legs in preparation to jump.

"Stop!" Kain cried, springing forward just as the doppelganger leapt into the air. Whirling around so that his back was to the mirror, Kain raised his lance to deflect the assault, bracing himself with gritted teeth.

The sound of shattering glass erupted from deep within the hallowed shrine…

* * *

 _Mount Ordeals, two days after the moon's return_

"AHHHHHH!"

Kain had barely made out the scream over the crash of thunder from above – another storm was coming, and very quickly, at that. He had been sleeping in the hollow in the side of a cliff that he had long ago burned a herd of Gargoyles out of – every once in a while, he liked to return to it to make sure it was still a viable hiding spot from any unwanted visitors, perfect in the sense that only he could get to it by leaping to an isolated peak of the mountain and shimmying down and around. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until the cry ripped across the mountain, startling him awake – and it was definitely human.

 _I'm getting careless…even though the nightmares have finally stopped, I still can't seem to sleep at night…and now this? I should have been able to sense earlier if someone was on the mountain – but who would be foolish enough to attempt a journey this far?_

Kain decided that it would be best to take stock of the situation at hand – hopefully whoever it was would have enough of the undead and the oncoming storm and would quickly leave on their own. He climbed out of his hiding spot, scaling the mountainside until he could propel himself back onto the main path that would lead to the summit. He had hidden away his meager supplies after his usual morning hike, so at least he didn't have to worry about anyone finding his stuff and getting suspicious.

The sky rumbled threateningly once more, and Kain felt the platter of a few drops of fat, cold rain bounce off his helmet. Leaping off the main path so that he could scale the summit covertly, he was shocked to find a large horde of undead making their way up the "normal" footpath and crossing the rope bridge in such bolstered swells that he could see and hear the bridge groaning and sinking ominously under their rotting feet.

 _What the hell is going on here?_ Kain frowned. _It's been ages since a monster has dared to climb up here – did something attract them to this place?_ He hoisted himself over the ledge of the cliff near a cluster of dead, dried-out bushes so that he could hang by his forearms and watch the horde shuffle by in secret, his feet securely tucked away in footholds below.

Across the bridge, a roaring crack of lightning tore through the sky, revealing three shaking figures backed up against the once-again lifeless shrine as sheets of relentless rain poured down. The two figures furthest in the rear of the battle lines were steeped in too many shadows to properly make out, but their leader, a young woman with pink hair in a now-soaked ponytail clutching a quivering mythril staff over her chest, appeared to be on her last legs.

 _Is that a white mage?_ Kain blinked. _She'll be killed at this rate…what was she thinking, coming to a place like this?_

"Look at all of them! We're hopelessly outnumbered!" the white mage whimpered, shaking her head as she fell to her knees. "I…"

Another flash of lightning illuminated the darkness, and Kain took advantage of the temporary stupefying effect he knew it would have on the beasts, who were terrified of any kind of light. Pulling himself up over the cliff, he withdrew his lance from the holster on his back, running it cleanly through the abdomens of the unlucky zombies who just happened to be in his way, and followed up with two quick sawing swipes to the straining ropes holding up the bridge from his side. A few moments later, the sound of rope snapping could be heard, and the bridge, loaded with the undead, collapsed in on itself and plunged into the murk below.

Satisfied, Kain launched himself to the opposite side of the bridge, where the three figures were huddled, their faces in matching expressions of shock from watching what had just gone down. He proceeded to easily take care of the remaining monsters, thrusting his lance backward to impale the zombies attempting to get a sneak attack on him while knocking the ones in front of him senseless with his fists. Yanking his lance forward as the blade tore through several more bodies; he finished off the last remaining monsters with a couple of beheadings and a fierce kick that sent one spiraling over the summit.

The zombies that were left behind on the other side of the now-broken bridge stared listlessly, not quite sure what to do with themselves anymore, and proceeded to stumble off the cliff in confusion or shuffle back from whence they came. Kain watched them go wordlessly, wondering if they would be stupid enough to lead him to their nest so he could finish off the rest of them later.

The pink-haired mage climbed to her feet and began to approach him quietly, her mouth set in a thin line. He was about to run away – his work was done here, and she could figure out on her own how to get down – when he heard the one word come out of her mouth over the roar of the rain that he would have never expected to hear in a million lifetimes.

"Kain!"

He turned to face her, tilting his head. Instantly, she shrunk back a few inches, and her brown eyes dilated with fear – he could tell that just his presence made her extremely nervous, despite the fact that he had just saved her life. He watched bemusedly as she struggled to bring herself to look him in the eye – he could read every emotion that was wracking her form as plainly as if each one was written on her forehead: _Dread. Panic. Curiosity…_

And yet, there was something very familiar about this slip of a girl…

"Have I seen you before?" he finally asked, not able to figure it out for himself. She shook her head, her bangs stubbornly plastered to her head from the rain.

"I am Porom, white mage of Mysidia."

Kain raised his eyebrow – not that she could see underneath his helmet – and his lip tugged up slightly into a smirk.

 _Ah, of course. She's one of Cecil's…_

* * *

"Is this what you're looking for?" Kain held up the hand behind his back, which contained the Crystal of Water – it was dull and lightless now, but it was only a few moments ago that it had been shining brilliantly in the shrine tucked away on the second level of the Tower of Prayer. It had been ridiculously easy to retrieve – none of the mages had even looked at him as he sauntered in and snatched it – maybe they had assumed it was part of Porom's plan to keep the crystal safe during the monster attack.

He wasn't even entirely sure himself _why_ he had felt compelled to take it – a quiet whisper, deep, deep inside his heart had indicated that it might make for a good insurance policy. And here had come the opportunity to already cash it out…it was time to see just how badly the parties involved wanted this utterly worthless piece of glass, and if he could use their motivation to reach his ultimate end-goal.

The mysterious girl's eyes widened and Porom watched disgustedly as a small smile formed on the girl's lips. "This is it – the real thing."

Kain shrugged. "It's yours."

The girl burst into startled laughter, and Porom's jaw dropped to the ground. "Wait…Kain!?" He couldn't bring himself to look at the pathetic frown on her face as the girl giggled once more for good measure and finally shook her head.

"A wise choice." She began to approach him, but he lifted the crystal in the air away from her, shaking his head.

 _Not so fast, sweetheart…I'm the one in control now._

"On one condition, though."

The girl paused mid-step, her hands on her hips. "What?"

Kain licked his teeth, still clutching the crystal above his head. "I'll give it to you only after I finish what I set out to do."

"And what is that?"

"An audience with the king of Baron."

Porom's gaze flickered between the two of them as they spoke, although Kain could tell she was still trying to get him to look at her – to send him a signal, _anything_ , that said this was all just part of the plan.

Well, it was part of a plan – _his_. He did feel a little bad that Porom wasn't going to be able to help him out after all – she would have been the perfect ruse to draw Cecil out of hiding – Kain knew Cecil would do anything to help his friends – or at least, _most_ of his friends. But in between the time they had arrived in Mysidia and right now, Kain had figured out that not only did this new, turquoise-haired girl hold all sorts of delicious power that would aid him far more than a measly white mage (sorry, Porom), but she also had Cecil's stench _all_ over her. He still didn't have the perfect picture of what the nature of her relationship was to him yet, but he knew enough for now that she was the one he needed to cater to.

The mysterious girl smirked at his request. "For what purpose?"

Kain knew that question was coming – but he was now struggling to temper the rage that he also knew would accompany it. He clenched the crystal tightly – he was envisioning it as a placeholder for Cecil's precious white throat. "To take his life... _I will_ _kill Cecil with my own hands_!"

Porom gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth and shaking her head.

The girl nodded thoughtfully, not even giving Porom a passing glance as she turned away. "Understood. Bring the crystal with you." She opened a portal of swirling blue light and leapt inside, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

 _Well, that was easy,_ Kain smiled. _Time to head to Baron._

"Kain!" Porom cried, finally managing to find her voice. "Please…!" She made a grab for the crystal, but he was of course far too fast for her even when she wasn't in such a depleted state. He easily snatched her hand within his, sneering as his fingers clamped tightly over her own. He could practically already feel it happening…Cecil's windpipe snapping in half under his thumbs, the pool of bruises blooming beneath his fingertips as the blood hemorrhaged in Cecil's throat…and that light…that beautiful, holy, judgmental light, would _finally_ fade from his eyes forever…!

"You're…hurting me…!" Porom moaned, lifting her eyes to his. "Please – it's not too late to stop this! Cecil…he loves you…! All this time, he's…"

At the sound of Cecil's name, Kain was snapped out of his trance – he stared down at Porom's twisted, blotchy, tear-streaked face, leaning in close to hiss in her ear. "What would a _child_ like you know about love?"

With one swift motion, he yanked Porom's pinky back so viciously that the snapping bones rang out in the now-empty village square. He watched as she turned as white as a sheet, tossing her out of his way so he could get on with what needed to be done. This would at least ensure for now that she wouldn't bother to follow him. Turning on his heel, he leapt to the roof of the nearby pub in one graceful leap before jumping again, and again, until he had crossed to the northeastern portion of the village. It was where the Devil's Road was tucked away – the path he had taken to Mysidia seventeen years ago to escape Baron, and all of its insidious shadows.

And now at last, a homecoming…how bittersweet it all was.

Kain kicked open the door to the Devil's Road, and was pleasantly surprised to find the mysterious girl waiting for him, her hands folded over her lap like he had interrupted her mid-prayer (which was such a ridiculous thought that it nearly made him laugh out loud). He figured she would have just teleported herself to Baron and made him join her the old-fashioned way. Was this the beginning of a beautiful friendship, or what?

"Who are you, anyway?" Kain asked by way of greeting, and she smiled, shaking her head.

"All in due time."

The blue-colored rune that was etched in the floor tiles beneath her feet began to glow ominously. Kain joined her, closing the distance between them as he gazed down into her glazed-over eyes. She was at least a head shorter than him – maybe even two. Had he not witnessed what she had done to Porom and the Elder in the village square, he might have made the mistake of thinking she was just a homeless debutante based on her odd choice of dress and mannerisms.

"What happened to Cecil?" he asked instead, and she smiled more.

"As the king of Baron, he's perfectly fine."

The blue light filled the room, and Kain could feel the solid ground beneath his boots begin to fall away in fragmented chunks. Soon, he would be submerged in the mysterious lifestream that existed between dimensions – all he needed to do was think about his destination, focus his heart and soul on reaching Baron. And when he thought of Baron, and what it meant to be _home_ , he thought first and foremost about _her_ …waterfalls of golden hair you could wrap in endless ribbons around your fingers…hazel eyes that changed color in the light – and in the darkness…soft, pliant skin that radiated like a polished pearl…

…And underneath it all, the most beautiful and understanding of hearts.

A shrill whistle erupted in the air as a whirlwind surrounded them, causing Kain to flinch. The mysterious girl just kept staring up at him, unblinking as her hair whipped back frenziedly.

"Tell me one thing, at least," Kain called out over the chaos. "Why are you collecting the crystals?"

"There's no need for you to know," the girl replied, and she faded away in the glare of the light.

When Kain next opened his eyes, he found himself in what looked to be the same exact room he had entered just moments ago. But right away, he knew they had been successful – when he took a deep breath, he could practically taste everything he had missed about Baron in the last seventeen years in one delicious gulp of air. He knew without seeing anything beyond the tiny, dusty room that it was all still there – the sweet, cold water of the northern springs that pumped water in directly from the rivers that crossed through the Misty Valley; the mouth-watering smell of warm bread and cookies that seemed to constantly billow out of Rosa's mother's house like a factory; – he wondered who she made all that food for now with Rosa gone – and the lingering, almost tart scent of the cherry blossom trees lining the promenade that took you to Baron Castle's front door. It was too late in the season for the blooms to be at their peak anymore, but some would still be clinging to the trees, the rest blanketing the streets and sticking to the bottom of the townspeople's shoes for the next few weeks to come.

The girl approached the door, unlatching it and turning to Kain before pulling it open all of the way. "And who are you?"

Kain thought about it for a moment – he knew right away that she didn't care about something as asinine as his name, or his birthright as the last member of the Highwind clan – seventeen years ago, if someone had asked him that very same question, he would have rattled off his name, his father's name, and a list of titles and ranks he had achieved in his twenty-one years as one of two of Baron's untouchable, golden boys.

But that had been before everything had changed – before Cecil had betrayed him, and destroyed the fabric of his existence as he knew it.

Besides…he had abandoned his name long ago, along with everything else.

"A dragoon. Ex-Baron."

The girl nodded, a stray beam of sunlight that peeked through the slightly open door making the ruby earring she wore burst into a cacophony of blood-red light. "I see."

They made their way through town swiftly – although still not fast enough for Kain not to catch some of the shocked, hushed whispers of the townspeople as they wove their way through the streets toward Baron Castle.

"Is that…?"

"It looks just like Richard's son…"

"Try not to get distracted," the mysterious girl said over her shoulder. "There's much to be done."

"Hmmmph," Kain replied, not appreciating taking an order, but making it a point to lower his face.

When they reached Baron Castle, the girl marched up to the soldiers who were posted at front gate like she owned the joint. Kain shook his head quietly to himself. Despite their traditional violet dragoon armor, they were no one he recognized – although he supposed most of the Dragoon Corps and the Red Wings he and Cecil had known in their youth were long-dead thanks to Golbez transforming them into mindless war drones and monsters.

"No one may pass... Orders from the King..." both guards muttered, and Kain raised his eyebrows.

 _Can it be that the past is repeating itself…? Those voices…they aren't human…_

 _And why would Cecil bar anyone from entering the castle? Does my dearest, oldest friend have something he's hiding?_

"Let him in," the mysterious girl ordered, and like clockwork, the two soldiers stepped aside, each taking hold of a door and pulling it open. Now, it was all starting to feel so very real – Kain had been drifting about in an almost dreamlike-state as they rushed through town, not really believing that he was really home – but now he was back in the place where he had grown up with Cecil and Rosa, where he had buried his father, where he had fallen hopelessly in love, where he had experienced depthless heartache…

And now, where he would finally bring Cecil to justice for everything he had done.

As if she were reading his mind, the girl turned back to Kain, arching a single brow. "Cecil's in the throne room. Shall I lead the way?"

"It hasn't been THAT long," Kain smirked, but when she sauntered ahead of him, he decided to follow her anyway.

Every hall that they crossed through – including the great hall, which had always been a hub of controlled chaos: black and white magic students practicing their magic on unwitting members of the court outside their labs, clusters of dragoons and red wings in their respective cliques gathered around polished bars sharing a drink (or five) after another successful mission – was bafflingly empty and silent. The only sounds that rose into the thatched beam ceilings above were the muted shuffles of their footsteps over the plush carpets that been draped over the exposed quarry stone floors.

Kain idly wondered if his bedroom was at all the same from when he had lived at the castle. He probably wouldn't have a lot of time to explore before someone sounded the alarm about the king being dead – he couldn't be too sure, but it was probably still considered an act of treason to kill the king of the country you used to live in, even if he wasn't actually the king when you were still a citizen. Based on that assumption, it was probably best for him to formulate an escape plan.

And there were other post-kingslaying preparations he would need to take into account as well…namely, the Queen of Baron…but he wanted to keep all of that to himself. He didn't trust the mysterious girl as far as he could throw her, which meant he had to keep what was most important of all close to his own chest. He didn't want the girl to have any type of leverage over him when this was all said and done – he just wanted to make the exchange – the crystal for Cecil's life – and get on with living life on his own terms – _finally_.

When they reached the antechamber, the girl turned to Kain once more, gesturing toward the closed doors. "Cecil is right inside."

"I know," Kain frowned. _Let's get this over with._

But the girl still did not let him pass. She was tapping her bare foot on the carpet, her arms crossed. "Let me ask you again. What do you plan to do when you see Cecil?"

Kain blinked. Was this some sort of joke? "Nothing has changed. Cecil will die by my hands!"

Whether or not that was what the girl wanted to hear, Kain couldn't tell – her expression remained as benign as ever. With a shrug, she turned, pushing open the door. "I see."

As soon as Kain entered the throne room, he knew something was wrong. Spinning around to face the girl, who was leaning back against the now-closed doors, he clenched his fist behind his back, hidden from her view.

" _Where. Is. He_?"

The girl offered up a smile. "First, I wish to test your resolve."

"I've told you already!" Kain cried, his voice exploding in the obviously empty chamber. "I intend to kill him."

"But _can_ you?" she goaded, pressing her fingertips together and forming a pyramid as she flexed them up and down. "And I don't mean your physical abilities – I saw what you did to that pathetic little mage in Mysidia. You really had to hold back from snapping her neck, huh? Personally, I would have just ended her, but…"

Kain felt a burning flush crawl over the bridge of his nose, inching toward the hollows of his cheeks. What the hell was she implying? That he didn't have the _will_ to destroy the person who had ruined his life? "Of course I can," Kain hissed.

The girl reached out her hand, licking her lower lip. Kain thought she resembled a starving dog. "Give me your crystal."

He shook his head. _This woman is certifiable if she thinks I'll give in to her that easily. I don't think she understands her position here – I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. She's nothing more than a puppet._ "I will…once my business is done. As agreed upon."

The mysterious girl shook her head. "I will admit that you confound me. The crystal's that important to you?"

Kain burst into uncontrollable laughter, shaking his head and practically falling backwards into Cecil's throne. "You can _crush_ the thing to pieces for all I care. All that matters to me is putting an end to Cecil's life!"

"Why do you hate him so much?"

Kain smirked, shaking his head. _Time for a taste of your own medicine, darling._ "…That's none of your concern."

"Then you won't mind getting two more crystals for me," the girl shrugged, and Kain's laughter died promptly in his throat.

" _What?_ "

"Do that and I'll arrange an audience with Cecil for you. I swear on my honor."

Kain snorted. "What does someone like you know about honor?"

The girl frowned. "It's just a word I recently learned. It sounded like this was the appropriate context in which to use it. Was I incorrect?"

Kain wasn't quite sure how to answer her – he was no longer sure if she was being serious or just toying with him now that she had managed to rile him up. Ignoring the question entirely, he merely shook his head. "...Fine. Which crystals do you need me to retrieve?"

"I still need the Wind and Fire crystals."

"Then I head for Fabul and Damcyan."

The girl clapped her hands together cheerfully, as if they were planning their first date and not the invasion of two neighboring nations. "Don't worry – I wouldn't ask you to do this alone. This needs to be as efficient an operation as possible, after all. I will lend you an airship and a company of soldiers."

 _You mean you'll loan me what you've stolen from Baron, and what is by rights actually mine?_ Kain wanted to snap. But instead, he gave her a curt nod. He had let her see enough of his temper today. "Fair enough..."

"My time is precious," the girl added, staring up at Kain with unblinking amber eyes. "I _need_ the last two crystals."

 _"Last"…? So you've already obtained the other five…? And just where has Cecil been during this little shopping spree you've been on?_

Right on cue, a soldier stepped into the throne room, unannounced. Bowing to Kain, he muttered into the floor with an emotionless drawl. "We are ready for you outside, sir."

"Well, I guess you weren't kidding about being in a hurry," Kain frowned. "Very well. Lead the way."

The soldier turned, promptly departing the throne room. As Kain brushed past the mysterious girl, he could feel her eyes still locked on him like a sniper's sight – but she didn't say anything by way of parting. Once they were safely ensconced in the antechamber, Kain tried probing his new soldier friend.

"So, how long has she been running the show here?"

No reply. They made their way into the great hall.

"Why has King Cecil ordered that no one enter the castle?"

Again, no reply.

Once they were outside, Kain dared to ask the one last question that had been burning up in his lungs since he had arrived home – not that he expected to actually get an answer.

"Is Queen Rosa with the king? Is she…OK?"

The soldier turned, and Kain felt a flutter of hope dance in his stomach.

"Are you ready to depart, sir?"

"…Oh…yeah," Kain sighed, turning away. He hadn't even noticed the magnificent Red Wing ship that had appeared in the meadows beyond the castle, rotors already humming. The soldier nodded, shouting an order to those aboard. A few moments later, there was an obnoxious cranking that disrupted the weighty silence of all of Kain's unanswered queries, and the wooden ramp came slamming down into the field a few feet away.

Kain felt an uneasy sense of déjà vu as he began to board – like he was on the brink of remembering something critical from long, long ago…

* * *

 _Mist, one day after the moon's return_

Ceodore stifled a yawn as he lifted his head from his arms, peering out the tiny, film-ridden window from the one-room capacity lodge in Mist Village. He hadn't been sure of how much time had passed since his and his "companion's" arrival – he had been intermittently drifting in and out of sleep while sitting at the child-size desk that had been crammed into the room, attempting to write a letter to leave for Rydia when they inevitably moved on. Unfortunately, he had never quite landed on what to write as the opening:

Dear Rydia,

 _I hope this finds you well. I'm a Red Wing now, but some weird stuff has happened…_

Or maybe…

Dear Rydia,

 _The villagers (or at least the ones who would talk to me…they really don't like strangers here, huh?) told me that I only missed your departure by this morning. I wish you were here right now…I desperately need your help._

Or perhaps a little more detail was called for…?

Dear Rydia,

 _I just found out that the man who saved my life is on a mission to assassinate Kain Highwind, one of Baron's legendary heroes who saved our world during the War of the Crystals. The same Kain_ _you, Mother and Father fought alongside on the moon and trusted with your lives. It turns out I've been unwittingly assisting him this entire time – and if I have any hope of surviving the next couple days, I need to continue to do so._

 _Also, my parents and Cid are missing, the Baronian royal guard is hunting me, and the Red Wings perished in an accident of which I was the sole survivor._

The last time he had opened his eyes in an attempt to bring pen to paper, the final golden streaks of the sunset were still stretched across the desk, giving him light to write by. Now, the sky was pitch-black, and the candle he had kept lit next to him had snuffed itself out – the piece of parchment would remain blank for the night.

Ceodore pushed his chair back, wincing at the tingle it sent up his spine from catching on the jagged, uneven floorboards that cut your feet if you walked across them barefooted. The lumpy feather bed across from his was still empty – and by all accounts, hadn't appeared to have yet been used.

"Ceodore, I need you to secure us boarding for the night," the hooded man had commanded once they had reached the village proper, breaking the silence that had fallen between them since they had emerged from Mist Cave and Ceodore had mistakenly asked what he thought was an innocent question – why was his hooded companion going through such lengths to protect him, a refugee prince and virtual stranger?

But it had turned out he wasn't doing anything for Ceodore at all – it went unsaid, but Ceodore had come to the conclusion that he was just a means to an end. The hooded man had needed to get to Baron because he had the hunch his prey would make an appearance there. Ceodore had needed to return to Baron after the airship crash that wiped out his nation's air force, and he was the hooded man's ticket into the castle. Together, they had arrived at their destination, and it was together they had also fled when the remainder of Baron's military came after them, for reasons Ceodore still didn't quite understand.

Now Ceodore had no idea what he should do – he had felt a brief tickle of hope when he realized that Rydia, a close friend of his parents, lived in Mist, and that she could help him think of a plan, all while protecting him with her army of Eidolons – she was the only summoner in the world that could wield their true power. But when he had gone to find her after being dismissed by the hooded man, he had been promptly informed by the elder of the village that she was gone – she had departed for the Underworld just that morning, and he wasn't sure when she would be home. In fact, his exact words were: "Sometimes she comes back in a day, and sometimes in a month."

After accomplishing his meager task of getting them a room at the inn, Ceodore had attempted to track down his companion – Mist was so tiny that it could have fit in the great hall of Baron Castle, so he thought it would have been easy enough – but the hooded man was nowhere to be found. As a result, Ceodore had eaten dinner alone – the village elder had felt sorry for him after seeing the desolate look on his face when he was told Rydia was gone, and invited him in for pie. Full and only slightly less depressed, Ceodore had gone back to the inn to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

"I guess I'll just go to bed," Ceodore said aloud, so that he would at least have the company of his own voice. Trying to push out of his mind the newly-blooming fear that the hooded man had abandoned him in Mist as a decoy for the Baronian soldiers that were after them, Ceodore was about strip off his leather armor when he saw a tall shadow cut across the village's main drag through the window. Shuffling back over to the desk, Ceodore pressed his forehead to the dusty glass, and saw that it was the hooded man. He was turning off the road to the northern boundary of the village, heading for what appeared to be a small pond.

"Finally," Ceodore muttered, quickly turning on his heel and dashing outside before he could lose sight of him again. The innkeeper, a crotchety old man who became immediately suspicious of Ceodore as soon as he poked his head in the door to inquire about the room, gave the boy a disdainful glare as he ran outside, which Ceodore promptly ignored.

He started to slow his pace as he approached the pond – the hooded man hadn't moved an inch, even though Ceodore was sure he would have heard him coming – so it didn't seem as if he would run off. He was kneeling before an elegantly-carved gravestone that Ceodore hadn't noticed through the filth of the window – a portrait of a young woman was raised in the middle, positioned just right for the moonlight to shine over the glistening flecks of moonstone that dotted her hair and eyes. Ceodore could feel his heart pounding erratically as he examined her face – there was something achingly familiar about her beauty, but he couldn't quite put two and two together. Before he could stop himself, his eyes fell on the inscription below her portrait, and he began reading it aloud.

"Here lies the motherly summoner who protected our village."

The hooded man bowed his head, his silky blonde hair sliding over his shoulders. "Thank you. I wouldn't be standing here today if it weren't for you…"

"Huh?" Ceodore blinked. Finally, the hooded man turned his head, looking up at Ceodore as if he were surprised to see him. His familiar, crooked half-smile was back on his face – like nothing unpleasant at all had happened between them just hours before.

"Ah, Ceodore. Sorry I took so long. Did you get the room?"

"…Yes," Ceodore frowned, not quite sure what he should be feeling right now. "It's uh…not much, though."

"I imagine not, compared to the accommodations you are probably used to," the hooded man chuckled, and Ceodore clenched his jaw.

"…That's _not_ funny."

The hooded man's laughter faded, and he rose to his feet, pushing his hair out of his eyes and shaking his head. "…You're right. I apologize. I think I'm just tired. Shall we retire for the night?"

Ceodore turned away wordlessly. Suddenly, he was ashamed of his little outburst – it definitely seemed like something a spoiled prince would have said as opposed to a valiant knight.

Back in the safety of their room, Ceodore turned his back to the hooded man, beginning his second attempt of the evening to undress. The awkward silence had returned again, and Ceodore suddenly just wished everything would go back to how it was a few hours ago – when they had just been two strangers who had stumbled upon a fortuitous fate by finding each other. "So…what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"I was working on it this evening, actually," the hooded man said. Ceodore could hear him getting under the covers, and the disagreeing creak of the bed as it sagged under his weight. "All will be revealed tomorrow – if I tell you tonight, you won't remember anyway. You're dead on your feet, boy."

"I guess so," Ceodore mumbled, finally collapsing on his bed in his tunic and leggings and rolling onto his right side. "Well, good-night."

But the hooded man was already in the throes of sleep – there came no reply.

* * *

The next morning, after a breakfast consisting of apples "borrowed" from the tree in front of Rydia's house, the hooded man pointed toward the east, where a massive mountain range climbed so high into the sky that Ceodore simply couldn't see a thing beyond it. If someone had told him that this was the end of the planet's reach, he would have believed it.

"I heard that the road that used to be ahead has been blocked since the mountain caved in during the war," Ceodore said with his mouth half-full of apple, and the man smiled.

"You heard that over in Baron?"

Ceodore swallowed, blinking. "Y-yes, in school, but..."

"Perfect," the man interrupted, tossing his apple core into a cluster of rose bushes as he began to walk away. "We'll proceed due east from the village."

"W-wait a minute!" Ceodore cried, taking another bite of his apple before running after him. He glanced back longingly at Rydia's house one last time – it had remained empty overnight, and he hadn't had the courage to write his letter with the hooded man standing right there in the room that morning.

After a short hike up an overgrown, trash-strewn, long-neglected trail that promptly ended at a massive pile of rubble and growth that was as tall as Baron Castle, Ceodore took a step back, craning his neck and grimacing at the sun that shone directly in his eyes.

"Wow. The mountain's collapsed into a sheer cliff."

"This is what I was investigating last night," the hooded man said, placing his foot on a notch that had been chipped out of one of the boulders that had rolled down to the path, having now reached its final resting place with nowhere else to go. "There are portions of the collapsed mountain that are actually narrow enough that we could probably make it across in a day or so and drop to the other side."

"Wait, what?" Ceodore turned away from the sky, his face twisting in confusion. "Are we really going to _climb_ this thing?"

The hooded man shrugged. "It's the only way to escape from those pursuing us. We'll let the mountain do all the work for us in terms of concealment. They will eventually come back to Mist, you know – do you want to be around when that happens?"

Ceodore could feel the panic rising in his throat – he gingerly placed his hand over his stomach, willing his body not to throw up his breakfast quite yet. "B-but, that's ridiculous! There isn't even a path for us to take...!" The hooded man responded by hauling himself up the side of the boulder in one fluid motion, glancing over his shoulder at Ceodore as he reached for the next shelf.

"So we'll _blaze_ one."

* * *

 _Don't look down…don't look down…don't look down…!_

The near-constant mantra had been playing in Ceodore's mind in a loop for the past five hours – and it was the only thing he could now hear. The hooded man was far enough ahead of him that his shouts of encouragement and coaching had started all blurring into gibberish – especially when a particularly nasty gale of wind would rush them, carrying the words away like a child's balloon. He longed desperately to confirm if they were making any kind of progress at all – even when they had taken short breathers to rest their arms, the hooded man had warned him not to look, and had at one point even forced him to stare at the cliff wall during the entire break by pinching Ceodore's chin in his fingers and holding his face firmly in place.

The elevation hadn't helped matters, either – both of Ceodore's ears had popped around the hour three mark, which made him feel like his head had become a sloshing fishbowl he was trying to balance on his shoulders.

"Everything hurts…" Ceodore whimpered to himself, cringing as a small rock from the hooded man's foothold broke apart and bounced off his shoulder. "Yeesh…"

"Are you alright?" the hooded man called down. When Ceodore glanced up at him, he suddenly felt as if the heavens had parted and the angels had begun to sing – the hooded man was now hanging from a wide ledge – it looked to be about three feet deep, which was more enough room for them to sit and actually recline a little – and the ledge extended for what looked to be a considerable width around the perimeter of the cliff. It would be the first time in the entire duration of their climb thus far that Ceodore would be able to see the other side of the mountain.

"I'm OK!" Ceodore exclaimed, scrambling to catch up with the hooded man with a burst of adrenaline. When he was just a few feet away from the ledge, the man bent down, grasping hold of Ceodore's forearm and tugging him up the remainder of the way.

"Thank you!" Ceodore gasped, throwing his body against the full length of the rock shelf and practically sobbing with relief. "Are…are we close…?"

"Actually…yes," the hooded man replied, and Ceodore glanced up.

"…Seriously?"

"Seriously," the hooded man had wandered the length of the ledge, his hand shielding his face as he gazed out into the horizon. Ceodore inched closer to him (being sure to cling as closely to his beloved rock shelf as possible), letting out a soft gasp of awe when he saw the scenery spill before them.

A sea of gold awaited on the other side of the mountain – endless drifting waves of sand that appeared to be frozen in time were raised in various-sized crests, surrounded by a perimeter of rust and purple-colored mountains that bled into the ultramarine sea. In the south, Ceodore could just barely make out a speck of blue that had to have been Kaipo, the desert oasis of Damcyan kingdom – and to the northwest, the tallest towers of Damcyan castle proudly pierced the sky. Further beyond in the east, there were the peaks of Mount Hobs, and somewhere out of sight, the kingdom of Fabul…where Princess Ursula and one of his father's dearest friends resided, King Yang.

"You don't realize how big all of this stuff really is just by looking at it on a map," Ceodore said softly. "And even from an airship, everything below looks so tiny. But this…this is for real, huh?"

"Yeah…this is for real," the hooded man breathed.

"It's weird to think of it this way, but…this would have been the path my father took, huh?" Ceodore asked, and the hooded man glanced back at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…during the war, my father and K- er, I mean, his best friend, fled Baron, and made their way to Kaipo through the Misty Valley," Ceodore explained. "Of course, back then, there had been a road…but when I'm back on solid ground, I'll be walking the same path as my father…a king's path…!"

"You're right, when you put it that way," the hooded man smiled. "You sound a lot more cheerful about that than I would have expected."

"Oh, well…" Ceodore flushed, looking away. "I'm just beginning to realize there are a lot of cool things to see out here…that's all."

"That there are," the hooded man agreed, and reached into the sky, letting out a loud yawn as he stretched. "So, what do you say we rest here for a while more and then start our descent? We should be able to start climbing down here and weave our way closer to the desert – it should go faster than climbing up did. The same rule as before is going to stand, though – _no looking down_."

"Yes, sir," Ceodore nodded. "Thinking about it now though, I wish we had brought some lunch…I'm going to eat everything on the menu when we get to Kaipo tonight."

"Never fear," the hooded man grinned, reaching into his leather pouch and producing two shiny, red apples. Ceodore laughed, taking one into his hands.

"I hope Rydia forgives us…"

"Is that the woman who lived at the house I saw you skulking around last night?" the hooded man asked, and Ceodore reddened.

"Y…You saw me!?"

"Well, I was on a cliff, so yeah," the hooded man blinked. "I could see the entirety of the Misty Valley. It's not like you were hard to spot."

"…Yeah, that's her house," Ceodore nodded. There was no point in lying – Rydia wasn't on the man's hit-list, right? "She's one of my father's…"

"I know who Rydia of Mist is," the hooded man smiled. "Another hero from the war…it's too bad she wasn't home. I would have liked to meet her."

"Really?" Ceodore blinked, rubbing the apple against his tunic. "I guess I didn't take you for much of a hero-worshipper…you want her autograph or something?"

"How rude," the hooded man snorted, taking a bite of his apple. "Anyway…it's probably for the best. You know what they say…you should never meet your idols."

"Really?" Ceodore frowned, following suit and taking a bite of his own. "Why is that?"

"Because in the end, all they'll do is disappoint you when you realize they're human."

* * *

As he had on the way up, the hooded man took point when descending the mountain as well, shouting directions up to Ceodore as the boy carefully inched down the cliff.

 _He's still being kind to me…_ Ceodore sighed to himself as he shifted a bit to the right at the hooded man's command, his eyes starting to cross from staring at nothing but his bloodied, chalky fingers. _He couldn't possibly think that I can lead him to Kain, now that he knows I'm the Prince of Baron…right? Not even my parents know where he is…_

 _And what could Kain have possibly done to deserve to die…?_ Ceodore swallowed the dust he had accidentally inhaled from his sigh, his eyes starting to water as he tried to fight off a coughing fit. _He saved the world…without him…neither of us would probably be here right now._

 _What should I do…?_

Ceodore could feel his face exploding in flames – he couldn't tell if it was because he was getting upset, or if his body was rebelling from his attempt to hold in the gratuitous convulsing that was erupting in his lungs from the scattered rock granules he had inhaled. Gasping for air, Ceodore began to cough violently, his fingers slipping through the stream of sweat his palms were leaving behind.

"Ceodore?" the hooded man called from below – suddenly, he sounded miles away. "Stop moving and rest a minute!"

"Hack…ack!" Ceodore turned away from the face of the cliff, his eyes stinging as he inhaled sharply. For a moment, his gaze locked onto the hooded man's, who was staring up at him worriedly, frozen in place. Then Ceodore saw what was below them – or rather, what _wasn't_ below them. They were still so far up that the ground wasn't even visible – all he could see was miles and miles of jutting, rust-colored rock and heaps of rubble from the mountain's collapse seventeen years ago. Ceodore felt his fingers tremble as the first wave of nausea washed over him, his stomach doing somersaults that were far too reminiscent of the feeling he had gotten right before his airship had crashed.

His heart was thumping hollowly in his chest – he was reminded that he still could not feel his father's light…not since that gruesome morning.

And then came again the screams – playing over and over again in the echo chamber of his ruptured eardrums. Even through the shield of Biggs' body and his meandering consciousness as they plunged to the earth, Ceodore had been able to hear them all – cries for loved ones, wails of pain, and desperate prayers for the gods…

"Ahhhhh!" Ceodore sobbed, relinquishing his unstable hold on the cliff and tumbling toward the boulders below.

"Ceodore!" the hooded man screamed, lunging from his post and swan-diving toward the nearest shelf that was in Ceodore's trajectory. Slamming into the shelf sideways and rolling over onto his stomach, he reached out, grabbing hold of Ceodore's wrist just as the boy flew past. Clenching his jaw and digging his toes into the shelf for leverage, the hooded man gingerly hauled Ceodore's still body until he could reach his other arm, grasping hold and yanking the rest of the boy onto the shelf with the remainder of his strength; his heart and lungs bursting from the effort. Collapsing back against the cliff, the hooded man closed his eyes, sliding his hood down so he could gulp as much air as humanly possible.

Slumped next to him, the prince's head lolled on his shoulder, Ceodore's eyes fluttered open, his face as white as moonlight.

The hooded man heard him stir, but didn't move an inch – every muscle he had, and muscles he didn't know he had ever had, was on fire. It was a gargantuan enough effort just to part his lips. "You okay!?"

"Yeah, I think so…" Ceodore moaned, touching his temple. "I don't know what came over me…suddenly all I could think about was the airship crash and my fath...erg…" Ceodore choked on his words, coughing raggedly into the hooded man's shoulder.

The hooded man opened one eye, staring down at him warily. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay…really," Ceodore bit his lip, and as if to prove his point, shakily rose to his feet. "Sorry about that..."

The hooded man turned away, closing his eyes once more. "If you are sorry, then be more careful next time. I _told_ you not to look down…"

"Yes, sir," Ceodore frowned. He averted his gaze, not quite sure what to do with himself until the hooded man was ready to go again – he was quite positive that his companion was not waiting for him to take the lead. The hooded man pressed his palm over his abdomen, sliding his eyes open half-way.

"You're still worried about your father?"

"Yes…I mean, of course I am. I don't even know if he's alive…"

The hooded man kept staring ahead, and Ceodore squirmed in place, wondering if he had overestimated how much the hooded man actually cared about his disaster of a life. Finally, he raised his hood once again, and looked up at Ceodore, his fingers grasping the frayed fabric of his cloak with urgency.

"But you don't know if he's dead, either."

Ceodore blinked, his hand unwittingly pressing to his breastplate. "But…" _But that's not what my heart is telling me…Father's light…it has extinguished._

"Cecil needs you to believe in him," the hooded man said quietly. "More than anything else you could possibly do right now. Understand?"

"…I do," Ceodore looked down at his feet. "I think, anyway…but why do you say something like that?"

The hooded man rose, although Ceodore couldn't help but notice that he flinched slightly as he did so, still clutching his stomach. He caught Ceodore staring, and offered a half-smile.

"Just a pulled muscle. You're not as light as you look, it turns out. It will be OK."

Ceodore smiled weakly in return. _He says he's not doing this for me…but he saved my life…again…_

Several hours later, the hooded man surprised Ceodore by shouting that they had reached their destination, and Ceodore could hear him grunt as he let himself drop the rest of the way to the ground. Fearful of looking anywhere but directly in front of his face after his little incident, Ceodore stuck to inching down the remainder of the mountain at a crawling pace; only letting out the breath he had not realized he had been holding until his feet brushed solid ground.

"Looks like we're through," the hooded man smiled, giving Ceodore a hard smack on the back. Ceodore doubled over in surprise, his hair falling in his eyes as he choked out a laugh.

"I can't believe I made it down the side of that cliff in one piece."

"But you did, and you did it all by yourself."

Ceodore looked up at him, eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? I never could've done it without you."

The hooded man tilted his head, frowning. "Don't underestimate yourself. I only provided you with the opportunity. You're the one who saw it through to the end." Ceodore blushed, pulling himself to his full height as his gaze lingered up the length of the cliff.

"Yeah...you're right!"

The distant sound of a motor purring sang above them, causing them to both suddenly become very conscious of being in an open field. The hooded man grabbed Ceodore's arm, dragging him to a scattering of skinny pine trees that were barely functioning as shade, let alone cover. Ceodore stood up on his toes, gently pushing aside the prickly branches and biting his lip.

"What's that?"

The shadow of an airship was washing over them, and the crimson stain of the polished cherry wood glimmering in the sun didn't leave much room for interpretation about from where the ship had come from. "It looks like the Red Wings…" the hooded man began, and Ceodore clenched his fists, practically spitting into the ground.

"No! You're _wrong_!"

"What?"

"The Red Wings are the most elite airship fleet in the skies! The soldiers manning the airship up there are no Red Wings! They're just…mindless drones." Ceodore inhaled shakily, tears stinging his eyes. "They're not Biggs…or Wedge…or…" He shook his head, turning away as the hooded man watched him with a blank stare. "…Sorry. I know you didn't mean it like that."

The hooded man nodded, pressing his fingers to his lips. _Is Ceodore finally starting to feel a semblance of pride for where he comes from…?_ "True enough."

Ceodore looked back up at the sky warily, wrapping his arms around himself. "But that means…they're still on our trail?"

His companion shook his head. "No...they are heading in another direction – toward Damcyan or Fabul, perhaps. It's hard to tell from down here."

Ceodore blanched. "Wait...you don't think they'll try to _attack_ them, do you?" He and the hooded man locked eyes, both whispering under their breath in unison:

 _"The crystals…!"_

"There's no time to lose," the hooded man declared. "Let's head northeast to Kaipo first and get our bearings. We'll need to come up with a plan if we're going to take on the Red Wings…or rather, whoever is impersonating them."

"Got it!" Ceodore cried, and his exhaustion forgotten, took off running for the desert oasis.

* * *

 _The Red Wings_

"Just you wait, Cecil!"

Kain slammed his fist on the railing, a burst of laughter rolling up from his gut as the airship glided over the passes of Mount Hobs. The soldiers milling about the ship paid him no mind despite the fact that he had been alternating between stormy silence and maddening laughter for nearly the entirety of their trip – they were wordlessly and stiffly executing the barest minimum of the duties needed to keep the ship in the air, and didn't even look at Kain unless he was issuing a direct order.

 _There is no doubt – this is a repeat of seventeen years ago_ , Kain smiled to himself. _Although I think this girl, whoever she is, has a much better handle on her army than even Golbez did. Getting the Crystal of Wind is going to be a piece of cake...and Cecil won't be there to get in the way, this time._

* * *

 _Mount Ordeals, the day before the moon's return_

Kain stared up dizzily, stars exploding in his vision as he felt the broken glass twist and dig into his flesh, slicing through his armor as easily as one ran a knife through a pat of butter. His strength had failed him almost instantly – he had been barely able to hold his ground for a few seconds before the shadow that had emerged from the mirror overpowered him, giving up on the stymied aerial assault Kain had managed to block and instead sweeping into a low kick that landed upon Kain's unguarded abdomen, sending him barreling into the mirror.

The glass crunched under the doppelganger's feet as he approached Kain, a smirk twisted on his lips as he brought the tip of his lance to Kain's throat. Kain gagged, swallowing back the blood that had started to pool in his mouth – if he had moved even a centimeter to spit it out, his neck would have been cleanly spliced in two.

"Who…are you…?" Kain rasped. "Why do you look just like the me reflected in a mirror?"

The dragoon shook his head, and Kain caught a gleam of fierce white as the reflection ran his tongue over his teeth. "Hah! Long have I awaited this moment!"

Kain grabbed the dragoon's lance, gritting his teeth as he yanked it away from his throat and ducked away. The dragoon lost his leverage, falling forward into the shattered mirror with a string of curses. Trails of blood ran down Kain's back and legs as he staggered back to his feet, eying his abandoned lance underneath a pile of mirror shards where the dragoon had knocked it away from him. His assailant whirled around, hissing wickedly as he dove in for another direct attack, his lance marked for Kain's heart.

Kain leapt out of the way, making a dive for his abandoned weapon, when he felt something cold and jagged drive through his armor from below, ripping through the flesh of his stomach and sending a wet gush of warmth down his hips. He looked down in shock, where he saw the dragoon grinning up at him from the chamber floor, the tip of his lance now firmly embedded in Kain's abdomen from where he had thrown it with perfect aim. Kain collapsed to the floor, using the last of his strength to twist his form so he would land on his back, his body shuddering in protest as a fresh wave of lacerations ruptured across his shoulders and arms.

"Ugh! How did you...!?" Kain moaned, and the dragoon sauntered over, pressing his boot on Kain's hip for leverage as he reached down and tore the lance from the open wound, bursting into laugher while Kain howled in anguish.

"…I have finally been released! Freedom is mine at last!"


	24. Act Twenty-Four: Rosa's Tale

Act Twenty-Four: Rosa's Tale | The Nightmare Oath

"Whoa…what is going on here?" Ceodore gasped, spinning around as an outpour of delicious smells and explosions of color and light rushed past him – it was a gang of children, waving sparklers and wearing wreathes of desert blooms, all saturated in some of the most vivid colors he had ever seen.

The hooded man paused, crossing his arms. "Must be some sort of festival…the streets are lined with every type of food vendor you can imagine."

"And there's music!" Ceodore exclaimed, pointing toward a small stage that had been constructed in the northwestern square. It was currently populated with a fair-haired, slender minstrel strumming a lute and caterwauling into the oncoming twilight, throngs of young women and girls squealing and throwing their flower wreathes on the stage. The prince had to do a double-take: For a moment, he thought King Edward had descended from Damcyan Castle to regale his fans, of which he still had many even to this day. He caught the hooded man watching the minstrel with a look of intense confusion that made him nearly double-over in laughter: For the first time since they had met, he didn't have a look of deadly seriousness carved in his features – and it didn't suit him at all.

"Is that the kind of music people are into these days…?" the hooded man blinked, and Ceodore giggled behind his hand.

"I know you said you became a survivalist after the war, but have you been living under a rock the entire time too?"

The hooded man turned to Ceodore, a stormy glare preceding him. "Let's not get into who was doing what with their lives these past few years, little prince – I'm going to chalk that up to you being delirious with exhaustion. Desert travel is far more fatiguing than you think. Let's see if there's room for us at the inn, first, and then if you are lucky, I'll give you some money to buy us food."

"Jeeze," Ceodore pouted. "You would really starve me after putting me through hell on that cliff? How do you think you're going to take on the fake Red Wings without me?"

"Your confidence is noted, but also sorely overreaching," the hooded man raised an eyebrow.

They crossed the spectator-filled lanes to the Kaipo inn, which appeared to be bursting at the seams – all of the windows on the second level were thrown open, with people cheering drunkenly and hanging out the windows with their mugs and goblets as they waved to passers-by. Ceodore raised his hand to wave back, but the hooded man knocked it away.

"Discretion, Your Highness…"

"Right…" Ceodore sighed. He was brimming with a perplexing mix of anxiety and eagerness – he wanted so badly to forget everything that had happened the past few days, even just for a few minutes, and disappear into the crowds. In Kaipo, he was no one of importance – just a fifteen-year old boy on a summer adventure – not the deposed, possibly-orphaned prince from the most powerful nation in the world. At the same time, the conspiracy he had been absorbed into was deepening by the minute – so much had happened, yet he wasn't any closer to the answers he needed – even as much as he wanted to race forward.

The hooded man pushed his way to the front desk past the threshold, and Ceodore remained a few feet behind, suddenly very cognizant of not trying to look suspicious after the hooded man's scolding. But no one seemed to notice him – either everyone dashing about was too drunk, or he was too much of a mess to be recognized in the first place. "We have one bed left," he overheard the innkeeper say apologetically. "You picked the busiest night imaginable to visit Kaipo – It's the annual Flower Festival."

"It's fine," the hooded man shrugged. "My son can have the bed; I'll just sleep on the floor."

"It will be cold – a lot of folks don't realize the desert gets real cold, real fast, overnight."

"I'll manage."

Ceodore looked away, gripping his arm. He knew the hooded man was just trying to keep their identities under wraps, but hearing the stranger call him "son" had made his heart twist tortuously. _All I wanted was to be on my own – I was so tired of being known only as the heir to the holy paladin. Now I would do anything to see him again and tell him I am sorry for my insolence. Father told me when he was in Kaipo, he had just been separated from Kain and had left everything he had known in Baron behind – did he spend the night here drowned in as much heartache as I?_

 _Maybe I really am destined to follow his path…which means it still has yet to get so much darker before I'm embraced by the light. How can I possibly survive when I've not even a fraction of his strength, and no friends to call my own?_

"…Ceodore?"

"Huh?" Ceodore looked up, where the hooded man was staring at him, his hand extended with a small amount of gil.

"You wanted to see the festival, right…?"

Ceodore flushed, shaking his head. Had it been that obvious before? He really was nothing but a petulant child, knight's emblem or none. "No, I…How can I possibly when we need to…"

"We need to get something in our stomachs," the hooded man said firmly, taking Ceodore's hand and dumping the gil within before forcing his fingers closed over the coins. "Then, we can devise our plan. Find whatever looks best and come back here right away, all right?"

"Yes sir," Ceodore nodded, and retreated from the inn – he could feel the hooded man's stare on his back until he was swallowed into the swell of the crowds. Looking around, he became once more utterly entranced by all the activity around him – vendors were shouting at revelers to try samples, someone at a booth was swallowing fire to raucous applause – and a new group of musicians had taken the stage, belting out a bard song about Princess Ursula of Fabul that King Edward had composed at the time of her birth – it made Ceodore's face light on fire just hearing it. All he could think about was the last time he had seen her, when she had planted her foot squarely in his face and nearly broke his nose on his birthday.

 _I wonder what she's doing right now…probably beating one of her father's poor students into submission and totally oblivious to the threat heading for her doorstep…_ He bit his lip, clenching the gil tighter.

 _Ursula…be careful!_

His appetite suddenly fading into oblivion, Ceodore crossed the lane and purchased dinner at the only stand that didn't have a line five people-deep. As he completed the transaction, a parade of maidens tossing flower petals began to dance down the street, completely blocking the way back to the inn while the children in the crowds rushed to swarm them and catch the petals. Sighing in resignation, Ceodore turned to go in the opposite direction, deciding to loop around in a circle to make his return. As he crossed the northern oasis, which was considerably quieter and much less densely populated, he passed two gravestones nestled in a desert garden, one of them with a _very_ familiar name.

 _Tellah…so, this is where you and your daughter were put to rest. It's really beautiful, just like my parents said._

Ceodore slowed his stride, ignoring the insistent burn of the food in his hands as he turned into the garden and paused to pay his respects.

 _My father has told me so many stories about you…most notably how you saved his and my mother's lives on countless occasions._

 _It's odd to feel joyous at a graveside, but…I feel so happy to have finally met you after all this time. If you hadn't given up your life to cast the ultimate black magic…Golbez would have surely killed my mother that terrible day in the Tower of Zot, and I wouldn't be here._

 _I thank you with all of my heart…for everything._

He stood silently for five minutes, wondering if there was really anything he could ever say that was worthy of what Tellah had done for him – what he had done for the world – wondering too what his father might have thought the first time he visited Tellah's grave. Ceodore had never known what it was like to have someone who was in your life just unexpectedly disappear – at least, not until the day of the airship crash – and he suddenly realized how incredibly lucky he had been his first fifteen years of life.

 _I used to think Father was the blessed one…but to have so many people you cared for vanish from your life…that's not really lucky at all, is it…?_

"You knew these people?"

Ceodore flinched at the sound of the hooded man's voice over his shoulder. He hadn't realized his eyes were watering until he felt a tear break the dam and slide down his cheek.

"This is Sage Tellah…and his daughter, too," he nodded toward the second grave, carved with Anna's name. "He fought alongside my father in the old war."

He was met with silence. Ceodore turned, reaching up to rub away the tear with his wrist as the steam from the food rose into the air, obscuring his view of the hooded man's darkened eyes. "What about you? Did you know about them?"

He pressed his lips together, turning away. "I was worried about you. Let's go back."

* * *

 _The Red Wings_

Kain had retreated to the berth of the ship, slinging orders at the soldiers on his way down to take them back to Baron for the night. Had there not been injuries to attend to, he would have simply finished out the night by storming Damcyan and plucking the Crystal of Fire from beneath Edward's nose while he slept, but the residents of Fabul had put up more of a fight than he had anticipated and put a pin in that for the time being. The king's spawn had been a wild card he had not been expecting – she was quite possibly already as powerful as her father; thanks to the unchecked rage he could see burning in her eyes when she attacked him. But it was no matter – the desired objective had been achieved.

Kain smiled at the wilting crystal he had carelessly tossed onto one of the beds, wincing as a fresh rush of blood emerged from his split lip from the effort.

 _Fabul's crystal is mine... That leaves just one more before I'm finally reunited with Cecil._

He couldn't remember the last time he had been so greatly anticipating the dawn of a new day – truly, how long had it been since he felt his existence had any kind of purpose again?

* * *

 _Kaipo_

"No…no…!"

Ceodore sighed and rolled over for what felt like the millionth time, his eyes opening to slits as he looked down at the floor next to him from his bed. The hooded man was twisted in his blanket, his cloak rolled up into a makeshift pillow, and was seizing in his sleep, his eyes screwed tightly shut and his forehead damp with fresh perspiration.

 _He's having another nightmare_ , Ceodore thought, biting his lip. The first time the hooded man had started screaming in his sleep, Ceodore had to rush out of bed and shake him back to consciousness before the rest of the inn was given an impromptu wake-up call. They had been sequestered in a closet of a room, but the walls were paper-thin, as evidenced by Ceodore being able to hear every obnoxious noise pouring down from the pub above and from the bigger chambers next to them. Even after Ceodore had forced him to wake, he hadn't actually acknowledged the boy's presence – his eyes had merely rolled into the back of his head, and he passed back out in silence. Ceodore had climbed back into bed, staring at the ceiling for hours before finally falling back asleep himself – and now here they were again.

"Hey…" Ceodore whispered, precariously balancing on the edge of the bed as he reached down to touch his shoulder. "Wake. Up." He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, barely illuminated by the sporadic fireworks that were still launching outside. Some of them were so loud that they shook Ceodore's bed – they reminded him of the practice drills the Red Wings would execute on late summer nights whenever Cid did their annual cannon maintenance.

"It's well after midnight…" Ceodore muttered, giving the man's shoulder a hard shove. Another firework exploded, briefly illuminating the room in a flash of light. Ceodore didn't notice the door sliding open, or the wiry saber that materialized behind his head, Baron's crest emblazoned in the hilt.

"We've got him," a cold voice muttered, and Ceodore felt a clammy hand on his neck while the blade brushed against his earlobe.

Ceodore's eyes widened as the hooded man snapped back to consciousness, his hand flying to his blade he had kept tucked at his side. "Look out Ceodore!"

"Ahhh!" Ceodore screamed, diving forward onto the bed as the hooded man's blade ran through the assailant. He cringed as he felt the shower of blood scatter over his back, and heard the bed screech as the hooded man sprung from the floor, using it as a platform to propel himself forward into the two other soldiers who had burst in the room. Moments later, they were slain, and Ceodore lifted his head to observe the carnage sprayed across the walls, a choked wail escaping his lips. It was drowned out by another firework – the crystalline blue of his eyes igniting with an eerie silver light as they took in the decaying bodies that were returning to dust.

"Who...who were those soldiers just now!?"

"They weren't human...not anymore," the hooded man sheathed his blade. "They probably thought we managed to get out of Baron by sea and followed us to Kaipo that way…" Ceodore covered his mouth, lowering his head as he swallowed the acid that had formed in his throat. One of the soldiers whose skulls had started to dissipate had seemed so familiar…was it someone Ceodore had seen every day, or just recently because the soldier had been assigned to tail him? He realized that he had never paid much attention either way – and that just made him even sicker. The hooded man shook his head, sighing with dismay as Ceodore turned whiter. "Ceodore. Don't show them mercy just because they're from Baron. Otherwise, you'll wind up like that yourself."

"I know..." Ceodore whimpered.

"This, more than anything, proves that we need to stay on the move. When day breaks, we'll make for the underground waterway to the northeast so we can cross into Damcyan and Fabul. You still want to figure out who is controlling the Red Wings fleet, right?"

Ceodore raised his head, his hands clutching the sheets that had pooled in his lap. His voice shook with his reply – he couldn't bring himself to look in his savior's eyes.

"Yes, of course…No matter who is doing this, I can't let them get away with disgracing the Red Wings' name. And if I find them…they might lead me to my parents, too."

The hooded man turned away, directing his attention to the mess that would need to be cleaned up before they departed in what would now be just a few short hours. He heard Ceodore shrink down back into the bed, the blankets sliding over his shaken form. He glanced over his shoulder at the boy, nearly gasping aloud when he saw Cecil's cold, lightless eyes staring back at him. But when he blinked, the despondent, crystal-blue gaze once again belonged to Ceodore, and the prince rolled over, burying his face in the pillow.

 _That's what I'm afraid of._

* * *

The next morning, the Crystal of Wind hanging from a chain wrapped around his bare waist, Kain prepared for his departure to Damcyan. His homecoming from Fabul had been uneventful by design – he hadn't even let himself go inside the castle upon his return, as much as he was hoping he would come across a familiar face from the past – a certain white mage, perhaps. With the exception of Rosa, he wasn't sure if anyone else left in the castle would give him a straight answer about what was going on, since it appeared that all of the soldiers were now in a trance or fully transformed into something no longer quite human.

Kain harbored the suspicion that the mysterious girl, whoever she was, was keeping Cecil under close watch – he knew she would not allow for any accidental early encounters. And as irritating as it was, Kain could only assume that Rosa was close by Cecil's side – they had been a package deal seventeen years ago, and he had little reason to believe anything had changed that drastically in the time he was gone. That had been the final nail in the coffin for any ambitions he had carried in regard to exploring Baron after Fabul's conquest, and so he had slept on the uncomfortable bed inside the airship and nursed his wounds solo throughout the night.

 _I probably made it easier on Cecil, being away for so long_ , Kain thought to himself with a bereaved smirk as he contorted his body to reach all the abrasions Yang's little brat had gifted him during their battle. _But that all ends today._ Pouring another bottle of antiseptic on the cotton rag he had created by ripping apart one of the sheets on the bed, he pressed the soaked fabric to his lower back, grinding his teeth while the flesh burned beneath. His armor was tossed to the corner of the room in a heap, the maw of his helmet pointed toward the ceiling. Kain pushed his hair away from his eyes, where it had fallen in a waterfall of silk over his shoulders and chest, free from the blood-stained sash that had been tying it back.

After he finished dressing his wounds for the morning, Kain retrieved his armor, carefully locking each plate into place with a satisfying click, picturing Cecil's bones cracking between his fingers with each sound that rang out in the hollow of the ship. He could hear the soldiers boarding the ship from above, pounding monotonously without conversation or misstep. Of course, they had nothing to say to each other, and they had been given only one objective when Kain had ordered those who had survived Fabul to leave him the night before: Get him to Damcyan at morning's light without fail.

Kain didn't know how much time had passed once he collapsed on the bed and closed his eyes – his wounds were still stinging when he drifted back into a nightmare-laced sleep. But before he knew it, a hesitant knock landed on the door, and a muffled voice roused him back to life.

"Sir, we will be landing in Damcyan shortly."

Kain opened one eye, grunted in the affirmative, and heard the soldier walk away. He blindly reached over the side of the bed, retrieving his helmet.

 _This won't be like Fabul. Damcyan crumbled handily seventeen years ago – knowing Edward, he'll just hand over the crystal – he will be terrified of the past repeating itself. And I highly doubt he has a guard dog of a daughter – best I just take care of this myself._

Exiting the berth and climbing to the deck, Kain leaned over the railing, his smile widening as Damcyan castle came into view. "You all wait for me here," he called out over his shoulder, and one of the soldiers behind him cleared his throat confusedly.

"But, sir..."

Kain shook his head, his eyes never leaving the castle as he ran his tongue over his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath. "Look, I know you're being controlled, but at least value your lives a little."

The soldier shrugged. "Yes, sir. But if things prove to be more difficult than anticipated..."

"Don't count on it."

When their ship made the landing, Kain leapt down from the deck in one graceful jump, not bothering to wait for the ramp to be lowered. Gazing up at the castle gates, he realized that he had never actually been in Damcyan proper despite the kingdom being one of Baron's closer neighbors. His career as a Dragoon had never taken him to the desert region that was known mostly for trade, and he could scarcely remember when Golbez had bombed them in order to steal the Crystal of Fire during the war. The most he could recall was being high in the air – on a ship Golbez had commandeered when he had taken over the Red Wings, most likely – his vision fading in and out with each labored beat of his heart as an explosion of flames and smoke blossomed from the desert below. He remembered not understanding what was going on, and wondering if he was having some sort of twisted nightmare after the earthquake at Mist – wondering if Cecil had made it out alive. The next time he had opened his eyes, he had been spirited away to the Tower of Zot, and was receiving orders from Golbez about their next target – Fabul.

 _"Your friend Cecil may be waiting for us,"_ Golbez had boomed behind his menacing black helmet. _"Is that going to be a problem?"_

 _"Why would it?"_ Kain remembered replying duteously. _"He's a goddamned traitor."_

The castle gates were abandoned – but not locked. Kain shoved his way through, the doors swinging wildly on their hinges as he swept into the courtyard. Other than the rustling of the flowers that were swaying lazily in the desert breeze, there wasn't a sound, and nary a soul to be seen. Marching through the courtyard to the grand hall, Kain's eyes contemplated each portrait that was hanging in the otherwise-empty corridors – all replicas, he was sure, since the originals would had been destroyed in the bombing – of the past six rulers of Damcyan, as they were on the day of their coronation. At the end of the hall, he came to the seventh portrait – the only original piece – of Edward, looking exactly as Kain had remembered from seventeen years ago. He was dressed in ceremonial robes, and not the garb of a bard, but the same ghostly, pathetic gaze that transcended any pomp followed Kain as he made his way to the next room.

 _You were a fool to come to Cecil's aid that day in Fabul's crystal chamber,_ Kain thought to himself as he took another quick inventory of the next room, which appeared to be some sort of commerce square – unsurprisingly as abandoned as the rest of the castle. Maybe Damcyan's military wasn't as inept as he had thought – they had either spotted the Red Wings' approach…or someone had passed along a friendly warning.

 _Edward…all Cecil's friendship has gifted you is suffering and loss – first your father-in-law, and even today, his efforts to build Baron into a military superpower has effectively defanged Damcyan. Would you be able to look me in the eyes and tell me that he's truly redeemed himself for everything he has done to you?_

He reached over his shoulder, retrieving his lance with his left hand. With his right, he pushed open the throne room doors, pausing in the threshold as a rush of heat from the blazing fireplace rushed over him and immediately noticing the lone figure standing in the center of the chamber.

Kain's eyes found Edward's, and he found himself momentarily taken aback by the king's proud stance – the rise of the gilded throne behind Edward made him seem much taller than his svelte five feet-eight inches, and gone was the silver and ivory harp that he had clung to like a security blanket in the Crystal of Wind's chamber so long ago. In its place was a slender dagger hanging from his hip, the hilt glimmering tantalizingly in the light of the fire. The shadows set in his pale, sunken face were pronounced and obvious, like fresh bruises – but the furor in his eyes was blistering, igniting his entire form like a furnace.

"You..." Kain trailed off, his fingers curling tighter around his lance.

Edward took a feathery-light step forward, his boot barely brushing the stone steps that had temporarily elevated him to Kain's height. He spoke softly, shaken to his core by who it was standing before him, but nevertheless, with underlying resolve.

"I never expected to see you here, Kain."

* * *

 _The Underground Waterway_

Ceodore and the hooded man, thoroughly soaked to their chests from their trek through the first half of the underground waterway that connected Kaipo to Damcyan Castle, trudged into a small, relatively dry cavern that was stationed above the rushing waters of the river that was spiraling through the cavern from the northernmost falls. Calcium-encrusted stalactites dangled from the ceiling, the occasional drip of runoff from their pointed ends resonating like the last notes of a concerto. Ceodore tugged at his tunic, twisting the fabric in his hands to squeeze out the excess water, the droplets splashing on faintly glowing crystals embedded in the ground at their feet.

"Hey, aren't these those crystals that repel monsters that we saw in Mist Cave?" Ceodore asked, and the hooded man looked around, hands on his hips.

"That's right. We'll rest here and take advantage of their protection," he nodded toward a rotting pile of wood and stones a few feet away from them. "Seems to be a popular enough spot for travelers past."

"But I'm just fine!" Ceodore frowned, releasing the now wrung-out fabric. "Aren't you worried about Damcyan and Fabul? We have to hurry!"

The man shook his head. "You need to pace yourself and remember what we are up against – it's the two of us versus an entire army. Eventually, your adrenaline is going to run out, and I'm not hauling you out of here over my shoulders. We've got a while to go."

Ceodore pressed his lips together, suddenly remembering that he had fallen back into a dead sleep after the soldiers had attacked them, and that his companion had probably been up the remainder of the night taking care of the aftermath. "Oh...all right, then." He promptly collapsed on the ground, pressing his cheek to his palm and closing his eyes. The hooded man dug around in his provisions, retrieving a bomb crank and tossing it on the ground in front of them, the makeshift fire pit erupting in flames.

"That's our last one," the hooded man said, and Ceodore opened one eye.

"We'll be able to get more supplies in Damcyan – I haven't seen King Edward in ages, but I'm sure he'll help us. He and my father are good friends. But even if they weren't, he's so kind and gentle; he would never turn away someone in need."

"Is that so?" the hooded man asked, sitting across from Ceodore and crossing his legs. "How long has it been since you've spoken with the king?"

"I can't remember," Ceodore admitted. "I was so little I can hardly remember what he looks like. _Hopefully_ , he remembers me. But he and my father speak often enough. Usually, my father just visits him – it's easier with the airship."

"Of course."

Ceodore slid down to the ground, his eyes blinking sleepily as he turned on his side. "You know those graves in Kaipo? King Edward was once engaged to the girl buried there – Anna. But my father said she died during the war, right before they were supposed to get married. He was there when it happened – he said King Edward could hardly bring himself to leave her side, even as their castle was burning down all around them."

"That sounds horrible," the hooded man said quietly, his eyes locked on the fire. Within, he could see it all over again – Damcyan crumbling into a sea of ash that washed away with the desert winds, her people becoming one with their kingdom's lands forevermore. "A lot of atrocities were committed in Baron's name back then, the sacking of Damcyan being no exception. It makes me fearful for what's to come – I can only pray this is not a repeat of the past."

"It's not!" Ceodore frowned. "That was Golbez's doing, and he's gone now. My parents made sure of that. Baron would _never_ become someone's puppet again…" There was a hesitant intake of breath.

The hooded man tilted his head. "What exactly do you know about Golbez, Ceodore?"

"Well, the answer is…not much," Ceodore frowned. "My parents' encounters with him are a sore subject – he seemed to make it a personal mission to torture them just because they had the audacity to stand up to his terror. But I've heard enough from others to know how awful he was – that something set him off on a bad path if he was so willing to help Zemus purge us from the planet."

 _Willing?_

"I see. Well, at any rate, neither you nor I have enough information to know who is behind the revival of the Red Wings, so-to-speak. But whoever it is, I'm beginning to suspect that perhaps it wasn't just monsters that brought down your ship…but rather, a calculated attack designed by this individual."

"…What?"

"I've been thinking about what a strange – and unfortunate – coincidence it was that Baron's most powerful fleet happened to be destroyed at the same time as the return of the twin moon. At first, I thought the monsters had perhaps gone mad, but…"

"You think someone is controlling the monsters?" Ceodore whispered. "Meaning…we were targeted so that we would be out of the way for an invasion?"

"Possibly. With the Red Wings gone, the keystone to Baron's security is removed – and the enemy can move in. It would explain why the soldiers are after you – they didn't complete their mission if a Red Wing survived."

"But…" Ceodore closed his eyes, the flush in his cheeks from their hike in the waterway draining into a pale, sickly green. "…Oh gods…"

The hooded man pressed his fingers to his temple. He had been tossing around the idea of proposing his theory to Ceodore since they had arrived in Kaipo, but now he was wondering if he had made a mistake. And if he told Ceodore the truth – that he had seen Cecil in Baron, but that the king had been a shadow of his former self – would Ceodore turn right around and flee, despite the now-known danger? After a few minutes of silence, he reached out toward the still boy, who had rolled over so that his back was to him – he wondered if Ceodore didn't want him to see that he was crying.

"Ceodore…"

"Mo...ther..." Ceodore whimpered, curling into himself tighter. The hooded man pulled back his hand, his eyes stinging as he watched the boy sleep.

 _Rosa…_

* * *

 _Damcyan_

Kain raised his lance, sweeping it across the throne room as if he were a monarch addressing his people. "You cleared the castle for me, didn't you? Nice to see a show of courtesy from you, even after all this time."

Edward crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth a straight line. Still, his gaze did not leave Kain's – and it was starting to get a bit unnerving. "Mm-hmm."

"Will you continue this act of kindness and hand over the Crystal of Fire?"

"Is that what you're really after?" Edward asked testily, and Kain shrugged.

"It's not the main thrust of my business...but yes."

"So what are you _really_ after?"

"I'm going to kill Cecil."

A chill shot down Edward's spine – but still, he did not waver. _There must be a connection…Cecil's strange behavior, and now Kain's sudden appearance…yet both men want the crystals? I have to draw out any information I can._ Exhaling slowly, he merely reacted to this news with a shake of his head – as if Kain had said something so asinine that it didn't even register. "Have you seen him yet?"

"Not yet," Kain cocked an eyebrow. "That's why I'm here."

Edward smiled outwardly, but inside, he was shook. _Cecil was alive and well mere hours ago…why would Kain have not gone straight to Baron to see for himself? Does this mean he's not collecting the crystals on Cecil's behalf? Are they both working for the woman whose voice Harley and I heard in the whisperweed?_

"I see...sadly, I'm afraid I can't let you have my crystal."

Kain jumped forward so fast that Edward didn't have time to finish his sentence. When the dragoon landed, his lance was pressed to Edward's throat, standing close enough that Edward could feel his hot breath hitting him in the face like a rain of blows. Hissing between his teeth, Kain pressed inward. "Even if it costs your life?"

Edward swallowed, his eyes gazing down at the tip of the lance dragging across his Adam's apple before defiantly lifting them back to Kain's dusky glare. "That's right."

Kain smirked, pulling his lance back and licking his lips. "Let me put you out of your misery, then." He grabbed Edward by the throat, roughly shoving the stunned man into his throne and preparing to bring the lance down upon his head.

"Kain, _stop_!"

A melodious voice cried out, causing both men to turn away from each other and face the left-most corridor. There came the sound of harried footsteps, and a figure in white appeared before the two of them, spirals of blonde hair raining over her shoulders, the curls spilling over her breasts with each distraught breath. Heavy-lidded, bloodshot eyes were rimmed in coral from countless nights of unrest, and her cupid's bow-shaped lips were split with hairline cracks, some of them tinged with a fresh spray of blood. Her hands – white, delicate, as fragile as bone china, yet capable of inflicting so much torment, were suddenly wrapped around Kain's lance, inching it away from Edward's skull with an otherworldly strength that a creature in her condition should not had been able to summon. An ornate pink diamond adorning her ring finger blinded Kain's glare, reflecting firelight.

But when he stared down into those fierce, lustrous eyes, it was as if time had ceased its flow – he was transported to another world, a star in the most distant of universes where he no longer suffered or felt anything but inviolable – a place where he awoke to angels whispering his name, not darkness-stained nightmares, a place where soft hands placated the ache, and where tender hearts made him remember how deliciously wonderful it was to be human – to be _alive_.

It felt almost vulgar, the way he desperately drank her in – but it had been seventeen long, tortuous years, and he hadn't realized how starved he was for her until she had materialized before him – the living, breathing miracle he had prayed for since the day he had abandoned himself.

Her name danced enticingly on the tip of his tongue – just saying it aloud made him feel like he would be brought closer to the gods themselves – but he feared as soon as it left his lips, the vision before him would pop like a soap bubble, disappearing forever into the ether.

"Rosa…!?"

* * *

 _The Underground Waterway_

It had only been a short amount of time that Ceodore had slept – he woke up with a start, half of his hair matted down against his face as he shot up in place and glanced around worriedly.

"I fell asleep!?" he cried, scrambling to his feet. "Why did you let me do that!?"

The hooded man, who had spent the entire time staring at the fire and occasionally changing his position so that his clothes would dry faster, didn't bother looking up.

"Our purpose coming here was to rest, and you rested. What else did you want me to do?"

"Irk…" Ceodore crossed his arms over his chest. "…OK, you made your point. I was more tired than I thought. But…I did have a wonderful dream."

"What?" the hooded man blinked, rising to his feet.

"It was my mother…I saw her again," Ceodore smiled happily. "She embraced me in the courtyards of Baron, and told me I needed to be strong. Everything felt so real – I could even smell her perfume again." He closed his eyes, scrunching his scarf against his face and inhaling deeply. "I had a dream about her before I became a knight – so I think this bodes well!"

"That's great," the hooded man offered, smiling crookedly. "I'm sorry if I upset you before."

Ceodore shook his head. "Please don't apologize. You've been thinking about what I should have been deliberating this entire time. I can't remove the target from my back, but…" he trailed off, looking away.

"…But what?"

"…It's nothing," Ceodore smiled weakly. "I've just got to be strong, like Mother told me in my dream. I know I can't rely on you forever – once you find Kain, then you'll do what needs done and go back home, right? There will be no need for you to get any further entangled in this mess."

"Ceodore…"

But Ceodore had hastily turned away, exiting the cave with his arms wrapped around himself. The hooded man sighed, staring down at his boots. A few moments later, an excited cry carried back to him as he attempted to stomp out their fire. "I see sunlight!"

When the man had joined Ceodore once again near the cavern's exit, he surveyed their surroundings and shook his head. They were still enclosed by mountains – and they had not yet crossed the northern falls that acted as the unofficial gateway to Damcyan. He pointed in the distance across the fields, where another cave opening was awaiting them. "We aren't through this yet. Watch yourself."

"Right!" Ceodore exclaimed, his voice trembling slightly as he took the lead and marched forward. The hooded man watched him go, his heart sinking as he fell in step behind the boy.

 _Being brave does not mean you have to pretend to be unafraid…Ceodore, as the holy paladin's heir, do you truly understand what may be playing out here…? Something far more sinister than a mere target is on your back…What will you do when you have to face the truth?_

 _But you are right about one thing…I may not be there when it happens._

After crossing into the new cavern, Ceodore had stopped at the ledge of a cliff, pouting in confusion as the roar of a waterfall exploded below, the spray dancing over his skin like morning dew. When the hooded man approached from behind, Ceodore shook his head. "It's just a dead end..."

The hooded man glanced over the ledge, and tried not to laugh. "What dead end? You got the guts to jump in?"

Ceodore tried to blink away the vision that had suddenly popped into his head of being snapped in half by a torrent of raging water. "Of...of course!" He looked up at his companion to see if he was being serious, and unfortunately, all signs pointed to "yes".

The hooded man smirked. "Time to see what you're really made of. Why don't you go first?"

Ceodore swallowed, swiping the mist out of his eyes as he took another long look at the waterfall, which seemed to suddenly double in size and intensity. "…Yes, sir!"

Closing his eyes, Ceodore took an awkward, flying leap, screaming at the top of his lungs until he was silenced by the churning waters below, his body sinking beneath the murky black water like a coffin being lowered into its grave.

* * *

 _Damcyan_

"Rosa..." Kain whispered again, giving in to her insistent shoving and finally lowering the lance. She stared up at him, her face twisted in confusion as she forced herself squarely between him and Edward, her hands still clinging to his weapon. He watched as a bead of sweat trailed down her temple, clinging to the curve of her cheek as it made its descent.

"Kain? Your mind hasn't been..." Rosa trailed off, and he shook his head, his heart pounding as he yanked the lance out of her grasp, turning his back to her.

"No. I'm acting on my own volition."

Rosa bit her lip, reaching for his shoulder. "Really?"

He glanced down at her hand, and was met once again by the glare of that damnable gaudy trinket. It suddenly hit him just what exactly the ring symbolized, and why he had never seen it before, and he felt the momentary peace that had washed over him when she called his name go up in flames. He laughed, shaking his head as he grasped her hand in his, lacing their fingers like an intricate weaving. "Yes, really. And once I kill Cecil...you will be mine, Rosa!"

"Kain!" Rosa protested, trying to pull away without success – it was as if all of her strength was sapped away just by looking at him. "You can't be serious…!"

The throne room doors flew open once more, and this time, the three of them were joined by the company of soldiers that had come with Kain on the airship. A stunned Edward could only watch, wide-eyed, as they swarmed the throne room, all facing Kain to wait for his orders. Kain yanked Rosa forward so that she was at his side, indicating to the soldiers that they were not to touch her. They had technically disobeyed his earlier request by coming after him, but he supposed he had taken longer than was anticipated – Rosa's appearance had thrown a wrench into what was supposed to be a quick and painless assassination.

"Sadly, time's up," Kain shrugged, turning back toward Edward and squeezing tighter as Rosa squirmed in his grip. "Give me the final crystal!"

 _Final!?_ Rosa cringed. _How could he possibly have gathered the crystals so quickly? What in the world happened after we fled Baron?_

Edward pushed himself to his feet, glowering. "I believe I've already made myself clear."

"What?"

"I refuse."

"Run, Edward!" Rosa cried, but instead, he reached into his pocket, retrieving a small, gunmetal gray box and sliding the clasp, causing the lid to spring open. A hazy flash of red light and billowing smoke filled the room, coils of fire rising into the air and exploding into clusters of fully-grown Bombs. The snaggletoothed creatures tittered in excitement as they began to charge about the throne room, smashing into pillars and exploding on contact, sending slabs of marble flying like projectile weapons. Others body slammed the Baronian soldiers, clinging to them with their spindly claws and self-destructing, sending clouds of dust and ash raining in the air as Rosa screamed and fell back into Kain in shock, trying to reconcile the fact that every "soldier" before her was actually a monster in disguise. He pulled her tightly into his chest, glaring at Edward as the king silently closed the box, tossing it aside while the Bombs made quick work of the remaining soldiers, destroying most of the throne room in the process.

"A Carnelian Signet!" Kain hissed, and Edward stepped aside just in time to dodge a flaming chunk of ceiling that came crashing down.

"Souvenir from Baron."

"All the better for me!" Kain laughed, brandishing his lance once more and sweeping low to knock Edward to his feet. Edward fell forward, tumbling down the stairs from his throne as Rosa screamed and yanked away from Kain, rushing to catch Edward. He fell into her arms, her knees buckling beneath his weight as she struggled to steady him. His dagger clattered to the floor, unnoticed to the two of them.

"Thank you, Rosa!" Edward gasped. "Now get out of here! You have to find…"

"No!" Rosa shrieked. "I won't go without you and Harley!"

"Honestly Rosa, what would Cecil say if he saw you two like this?" Kain smirked, shoving Rosa out of the way and burying his fist into Edward's face. Edward howled in pain as a rush of blood erupted from his nose, stumbling to the floor once again as the color drained from Rosa's cheeks.

"Kain, stop this! _Kain_!"

She threw himself at him as he loomed over Edward, wrapping her arms around his waist and shoving him down to the floor, his head slamming against the foot of Edward's throne as she crawled atop his legs in an attempt to pin him, tossing his lance away. His ears ringing inside his helmet, Kain dizzily lifted his gaze, cursing under his breath as he felt something cold and sharp press into his back. As he slid his hand behind him while trying to kick Rosa off, he realized Edward had lost his dagger – and he had just lucked out in finding it.

Closing his fingers around the hilt of the blade, Kain ignored the threatening throbs originating in the back of his skull and sat up, pushing Rosa away and shakily aiming with his non-dominant hand. The dagger flew from his fingers, plunging into Edward's shoulder just a hair's width beneath his plate armor. Edward's scream filled the room, and Rosa whirled around, hurriedly chanting a Curaja spell under her breath. Kain slapped his hand over her mouth, disrupting the incantation and dragging her with him to pour over Edward's defeated form.

Edward was gasping for air, and it was hard to tell where the blood from his nose started and the blood from his shoulder wound ended in the gruesome bath that splashed across his chest and neck. He looked up at Kain as his and Rosa's shadows blanketed him, grimacing. "So this...is what you really want?"

"Edward!" Rosa mumbled against Kain's hand, and Edward's eyes slid shut, his breathing deeply labored and rattling in his throat like a screaming kettle left over the fire.

"Ah...That's it, that's exactly it," Kain smiled. He released Rosa, bending down to examine something glimmering that had caught his eye. It was a ruby signet ring bearing the crest of Damcyan, and it looked far too heavy for Edward's frail, blood-stained fingers. He watched Rosa's face as he reached for the ring, and saw the slightest sliver of panic ignite in her gaze – that was the only hint he needed indicating that somehow, this silly trinket would lead him to the crystal. Plucking the ring off of Edward's finger, he turned back to Rosa, his smile widening as she pressed her back to the wall, glaring up at him.

"Rosa…I'm going to need you to tell me where the crystal is, or else I'll have to finish this poor bastard off."

"I…I won't," Rosa shook her head defiantly, her eyes watering. She knew if she tried to cast another spell, he would just stop her again – she had to pray that Edward could hang on just a little while longer while she tried to talk some sense into Kain. "Wake up, Kain! _You have to wake up!_ "

"I already told you…I am awake," Kain said softly, trailing the signet's ruby delicately across the curve of her cheek. She shivered from the sensation of the cold stone running over her skin, shrinking beneath him. "I have awoken…and my long, long, nightmare will finally come to a close as soon as the light is extinguished from Cecil's eyes! After that…what was meant to be can _finally_ pass." He slammed his palm in the wall above Rosa's head, causing her to shriek and duck as he pressed his body to hers, entangling his fingers in the short hairs above the nape of her neck and tugging just hard enough to force her to look up at him. The Crystal of Wind hanging from his waist pressed painfully into her abdomen, and she resisted the urge to cry out.

"Now, Rosa…tell me where the passage to the Crystal of Fire is…or Edward will die along with your precious Cecil!"

Her darkened orbs focused hatefully onto his own – the flecks of gold and emerald that had manifested themselves over the long years enkindled with such a ferocity and heavenly luminescence that he could barely tear himself away, even as he could palpably feel her obliterating what remained of his soul with each cutting flash of her stare – his chest was aching divinely with each hollow bang of his heart.

 _Yes, that's it…_

 _Tear me apart with your immaculate hands, drown me in moonlight, curse me with each breath that fills your body…dream of whatever it is you need to do, just as long as your eyes never leave mine again!_

* * *

 _The Underground Waterway_

Ceodore bobbed to the surface for air just as he felt an obnoxiously loud splash smack him in the face. Cursing under his breath, he rubbed at his eyes and coughed, the briny water burning his nasal passages and throat. A few moments later, the hooded man popped up beside him, pulling down his hood and shaking his mane of wet hair like a drenched dog before gathering it in his fingers and wringing out the excess water.

"Nice work, Ceodore! We'll have to polish your technique a bit, though…the screaming and flailing is not going to impress any girls at the local swimming hole."

"Not exactly something I was ever concerned about," Ceodore glowered, "Since I'm never going to take a girl I like to jump off a waterfall like a lunatic."

"Then you don't know what you're missing," the hooded man whistled, and Ceodore sighed, blowing a tendril of wet hair out of his face. Treading the water as he turned away from the hooded man, he spotted what looked like a shadowy opening in the center of the waterfall ahead of them.

"There's an exit behind the waterfall," Ceodore called out, starting to swim ahead. The hooded man turned around, raising his hand.

"Ceodore, wait for me."

As Ceodore approached the exit, a slimy white and red-striped tentacle rose from the depths, snaking behind Ceodore's trailing scarf. Just as the hooded man screamed a warning, Ceodore turned around, his eyes widening as the tentacle rose and came straight for his head.

"Slow!" Ceodore cried, and the tentacle was wrapped in a pulsing gray light, the speed it was falling through the air reduced so drastically that Ceodore could count aloud to twenty before it would hit its desired target. But rather than admiring his upcoming demise in slow-motion, he instead took the opportunity to dive out of the way, retrieving his sword from his water-logged scabbard and launching himself into a dual-attack with the hooded man to cleave the tentacle in two. The spell broken, the severed tentacle began to thrash about back in normal time, spraying an inky purple blood across the surface of the lake as it sunk beneath the waves.

Another tentacle burst out of the water to take the place of its fallen brethren, and the two men shot each other a look.

"Guess we aren't getting through without a fight," the hooded man shrugged. "Think you can do that spell eight more times?"

"E-Eight!?" Ceodore gasped. "I don't know if I have the mana for that. What makes you think there are eight more of these things?"

The tentacle was joined by a twin, and both swung inward in an attempt to trap their assailants in a pincer attack. Ceodore and the hooded man dove under the water to get away, propelling themselves forward and surfacing on opposite sides of the lake.

"Only _seven_ more tentacles!" the hooded man called from across the lake, and Ceodore shrieked as a third tentacle rose before him, quickly slinging another Slow spell and following up with several deep, bloody hacks from his sword. The hooded man was jumping between small, rocky islands that were scattered throughout the lake in an effort to distract his assailants while he waited for Ceodore to cast the additional spells. Ceodore had to shake himself from his trance as his gaze followed the hooded man – he hadn't perhaps realized until now just how agile he was on both the ground and in the air – it was incredible to behold.

 _Who is he…?_ Ceodore finally cast the spells, the hooded man shouting his thanks as he took another leap in the air, thrusting his sword toward his feet and running it through the entirety of the first of his two tentacles, not letting up until he sank into the water. _He said he used to be in the military…but can you really learn to move like that just from being a common soldier?_

But Ceodore's thoughts were interrupted when he gained a new opponent – yet another tentacle, this one slightly shorter than the rest. He climbed to the safety of a nearby island to lure the tentacle closer, lighting it up with a fresh Slow spell when it was near enough.

"Then what's the eighth thing?" Ceodore asked, jumping in surprise as the hooded man leapt to his side and slaughtered the slowed tentacle as he landed.

"That," the hooded man said, pointing back toward the waterfall. "It's called an Octokraken." A final triad of tentacles had emerged, and along with them, a snarling, cone-shaped mass of scales and pink-scarred flesh that was the size of a tree and had sharpened teeth that you just knew were specially made for tearing through bones of whatever lesser monsters made their way down to the lake as midnight snacks. Ceodore shrank back as the creature's erratic red pupils locked onto him, its legs frantically kicking up waves of water as it skittered toward them like an overgrown, lopsided spider, practically flying over the lake's surface even with only three legs left.

"Ahhhh!" Ceodore screamed, closing his eyes and thrusting his hands forward as the hooded man braced himself. He could feel the drain on his magic starting to make every move a major effort – even his brain's synapses weren't firing off as rapidly as he tried to picture a twisting, crippling fog wrapping itself around the entire monster and not just the independent legs. " _Slow!_ "

Ceodore felt all of the breath eject from his body, as if he had just been punched in the diaphragm. Sinking down to his knees, he moaned sluggishly, hearing his sword clatter next to him. "Nice job!" the hooded man exclaimed, launching himself off the island toward the beast. Ceodore dared to open one eye and nearly fell into the water in shock – he had actually managed to group-cast the spell exactly as he had pictured in his mind. What remained of the Octokraken was twitching with painful lethargy a few yards away from the island, and Ceodore could see the vein-busting strain of its bulging eyes as it tried to survey its gaze back and forth to no avail. The hooded man was using the collection of raised, staggered tentacles as stepping stones, diving over the Octokraken's head from above and thrusting his sword through its wide-open mouth. Ceodore heard a sickening snapping sound, and the hooded man's blade broke through the rear of the monster's head, sending with it another spray of putrid purple blood.

Moments later, it was all over. The hooded man swam back to the island Ceodore was trapped on as the Octokraken dissolved into a pool of dust that drifted on the lake's surface, mixed with swirling spills of blood. Ceodore managed to pull himself into a sitting position, and the hooded man reached into his supplies, retrieving an Ether. Ceodore took it gratefully, tearing the cork out with his teeth and swallowing the medicine in one gulp.

"Th-That was intense…" Ceodore muttered against the mouth of the bottle. He let it drop into the lake, sighing in relief as the numbness that had started to drown his tendons gave way to soothing warmth.

"If this is how violent the monsters are getting, then we must fear the worst…" the hooded man shook his head, retrieving Ceodore's sword and handing it back to him. "There have always been rumors of a beast guarding this lake, but it's been said to be defeated many times before. Whether it is being reanimated like the other undead of the waterway or something worse…neither option bodes well – it's a constant evolution to better itself each lifecycle."

"Then we just have to evolve along with it, right?" Ceodore asked softly, gazing at his hands. "That's what the Lunarians had hoped for us…that we could one day evolve to their level, so we could live together…" he looked up at the hooded man, unblinking. "I'm a quarter Lunarian, but attempting that spell just now nearly knocked me out. Does that mean I'm not marked for survival?"

The hooded man furrowed his brow. "Instead of looking at it as a failure, why can't you look at it as a success? You made things go a lot better for us than they could have been." Ceodore looked away, pressing his lips together.

"How come you didn't seem surprised just now?"

"About what?"

"About me telling you I was a quarter Lunarian. It's not exactly common knowledge."

The hooded man sat back on his heels, his face unreadable – like always.

"Maybe not, but I've been in the Mysidian region for a long time, and they are quite familiar with the concept of Lunarians and the truth about how magic came to the Blue Planet – about Cecil's connection with the father of magic. It's not hard to put two and two together. Besides, whether you believe it or not, you have tremendous untapped potential that no ordinary human would ever carry. The light that lead me to you the night the moon returned – otherworldly was a good way to describe it."

Ceodore smiled a little. He knew the hooded man wasn't exactly lying – that was the feeling he had gotten during most of their conversations like this – but he wasn't telling the truth, either – a lie by omission, one might call it. "And what drew you to that light? Why didn't you just run away? Most people would have, don't you think?"

The hooded man rose, extending his hand to Ceodore. Ceodore grasped onto it, letting the man tug him to his feet.

"The short answer is that I've run away enough in my life."

"And the long answer?"

"…Sometimes those of us imbued deepest in the darkness are the ones who crave the light the most."

Ceodore shivered involuntarily, dropping his hand as he watched the hooded man turn away and promptly dive back into the lake. His head dipped beneath the water as he swam under the liquefying remains of the Octokraken, and moments later he appeared at the base of the waterfall, motioning for Ceodore to join him.

 _And just how much darkness can one heart sustain before it is lost? If he assassinates Kain…will that be what tips the balance forevermore?_

 _And if I am complicit in his mission…what does that mean for my heart as well?_

After a short climb through the passageway behind the waterfall, Ceodore and the hooded man found themselves unexpectedly bathed in the warmth of the surface sunlight. The grass beneath their boots crunched as they walked, and pools of sand began to fill the widening gaps between patches of growth – they were approaching the Damcyan Desert.

"Ceodore," the hooded man frowned, suddenly throwing his arm in front of the boy. Ceodore stumbled as he tried to catch himself, following the hooded man's gaze. Damcyan Castle rose in the far distance, but something black was twisting in the skies high above, melding into the low-hanging clouds – smoke?

Another object emerged from the veil of darkness, blades charging relentlessly through the air as a body of shining crimson punctured the sky, growing larger by the second.

"A Baronian airship!" Ceodore gasped. The hooded man lowered his head, pressing his hand to his mouth.

"We're too late…!"

* * *

 _The Red Wings_

"My work in Damcyan is done...farewell, Edward." Kain gave a blithe wave to the now smoke-engulfed castle keep from the bow of the ship, laughing to himself as the ship's auto-pilot finally kicked in and started to lift them from the ground. He gazed at the fading Crystal of Fire curled in his fingers, his ash-streaked complexion blinking back at him four-fold from each of the crystal's faces. Behind him, Rosa hurriedly punched in a few keys on the control pad, trying every code she could possibly think of that would override the ship's commands and get them back into manual – she wasn't sure where exactly she could fly in a short window of time, but perhaps she could fend off Kain long enough to get to Fabul and force him to return the crystal. She knew that no matter what, she couldn't let the crystals out of her sight – she was the last chance they had to return to safety before Kain executed whatever his plans were for them.

"Give it up," Kain hissed from behind her, and she nearly jumped a foot in the air, spinning around to face him. He responded by shoving her against the steering wheel of the ship, the polished oak spokes digging into her back as he smiled and lifted a delicate glass bell between his fingers.

"Do you know what this is?"

"…What?" Rosa blinked, and Kain rang the bell directly above her nose. However, no sound came – upon closer inspection she saw that it was missing a clapper.

"Ah, I guess it's been a while since our last magical studies course, huh? This is a Silent Bell – as the name not-so-creatively implies, it gives those unworthy of magical gifts like myself the power to cast Silence on a target of our choosing. Luckily, my friends that Edward so carelessly disposed of had some supplies stashed on the ship that were actually useful. I apologize ahead of time – I just needed some extra insurance that you would not interfere with our homecoming flight with your magic – I'm sure you learned a spell or two since we last saw each other."

Rosa reddened, pushing Kain off of her and immediately casting a Hold spell – enough was enough – she would just have to take the crystals by force. But after the words left her lips, nothing happened – Kain smiled slowly, shaking his head and crushing the spent bell into glimmering dust between his fingers, releasing it into rushing wind.

"And I have plenty more where this came from, so don't try anything clever…all right?"

 _He really silenced me.._. Rosa bit down on her lip, trying to summon all of the courage she had _not_ to throw a hellacious fit and risk angering him further. _He forced me to betray Edward, and now this…!_ She eyed him warily as he brushed his hand off on his armor with such nonchalance that she could have almost been convinced that this was all just a terrible, cosmic-level joke.

"Kain, you must stop this madness! Have you any idea what is happening?"

"I have a feeling I know more than you do, dear."

Rosa reeled back, noticing the glowing satisfaction in his eyes as she did so. The past twenty-four hours had been such a whirlwind, she wasn't sure if she could really dispute his declaration. The night before, she had foolishly left Cid behind on the Enterprise, and had been caught by a company of soldiers. But she must have had been carrying the blessings of the stars that night, for the soldiers had turned out to be from Damcyan – Cid had landed in a little-known lagoon off of Damcyan's western coast, and they had made it immediately clear that they were her allies and were not the originators of the attack on Baron from which they had fled. They escorted Cid and Rosa to the castle, explaining that Edward was out, but was expected back home shortly, also pledging their support to help Cid get the Enterprise back up and running again.

But when Rosa and Cid learned from the chancellor that Edward's errand had taken him to Baron, a new level of panic ensued.

* * *

 _Damcyan, the second night after the moon's return_

"The castle was overtaken by monsters," Rosa whimpered, wrapped in a blanket that she hadn't left since setting foot on Damcyan's grounds. "Cecil sent us away – and he told us not to return under any circumstances. I fear he must be…must be…" She clasped her hands to her mouth, letting out a string of strangled wails – she couldn't bring herself to say the words aloud.

"And what of Prince Ceodore?" the chancellor asked gravely, and Rosa shook her head, too exhausted and dehydrated to summon any more tears. Cid held her close, his meaty hand clasped on the small of her back.

"…He's been missing since the day the moon returned. He was supposed to come home that morning – he wasn't there by the time we made our escape."

"…I'm so sorry," the chancellor frowned, looking away and fretfully stroking his beard. "Your Highness, if I may be forward – I think your assumptions about King Cecil are incorrect – it would seem he survived Baron Castle's assault. Just the other day, he sent us a messenger warning us not to go near the meteorite that struck in the northeast and to leave its investigation to Baron. That was why King Edward wished to see him – he wanted to understand what purpose Baron had for getting involved with something that was not in your jurisdiction in the first place."

"…What?" Cid blinked, and Rosa lifted her head.

"But we know nothing of a meteor – Cecil never breathed a word of it to me."

"Nor me!" Cid interjected. "Besides, that's not like Cecil to send a messenger for something like that – he would've just gone to see Edward himself if he felt that strongly about it!"

"I agree whole-heartedly," the chancellor said softly. "I didn't want Edward to go, but quite frankly, he insisted. He took Harley with him, also against better judgment. But I don't think Cecil would be trifling with a meteor if Baron were still under siege. I daresay, however, that there may be a connection between the two events."

"Oh gods…" Rosa sank to her knees, clutching the blanket tighter. She felt as if she had been presented a glimmer of hope that had been subsequently snatched right back out from under her nose. "But if Cecil is alive – why wouldn't have he sent for Cid and I by now? Is Ceodore is with him, or…?" She clasped her hand to her throbbing forehead, fever brimming beneath her fingertips. "I have to go back to Baron…right now! Please, send someone to help fix our ship right away!"

The chancellor dithered nervously, not sure what to do – a belligerent, scholarly-type like Harley, he could handle with no problems – a mourning, heartbroken, and confused queen was something else entirely. And now his own worst nightmare had come to life – something sinister was taking hold in Baron – and their own king had walked steadfastly right into it.

"Rosa…" Cid bent down, taking hold of her shoulders. "We should wait for Edward to return, so we can put all the pieces of the puzzle together. He'll be truthful about what he has found – and the chancellor said Harley is with him, so I'm sure he'll be just fine." He glanced up at the chancellor. "Damcyan will offer asylum to Queen Rosa, right?"

"Of-Of course!" the chancellor frowned. "I would never dream of anything otherwise. But I fear any more discussion at this point may just upset everyone more – we should get the queen to bed and await King Edward's homecoming. I'll send scouts posthaste to try to locate him – he was to only go straight to Baron and return, so surely he cannot be much longer. He had some guards with him, as well."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Rosa sniffled, and the chancellor and Cid both shot each other worried glances. "I'll decide when I…urgh…!" She doubled-over, what little color she had regained draining from her face as she fell forward.

"Your Highness!"

"Rosa!"

* * *

 _Damcyan, the three days after the moon's return_

"Rosa…I'm here now. I'm sorry I made you worry."

 _Ah…Warm, tenacious hands…Cecil, is it really you?_

A curtain of silky hair fell over her cheek. Without opening her eyes, she reached up, entwining her fingers in the locks and breathing in the earthy, familiar scent as she urged the figure to come closer with the wordless plea of her touch. Her heart danced vivaciously against her chest as she parted her lips, waiting for the one mouth in all of the universe that she knew as well as her own to renew their undying oath.

But the force that crushed against her was cold and tinged with an insipid sweetness that she couldn't place. Her eyes sliding open, she saw a small, thin smile come into focus – lips tinged the color of deadly nightshade – and felt a rush of numbness overtake her veins. She realized she was paralyzed in place as the figure pulled further away into gathering shadows, a scream ensnared in her throat.

* * *

"What in the world are _you_ doing here?"

Rosa lifted her head, cringing at the shriek that had followed the thunder of the throne room doors being thrown open. Her head was still throbbing from another night of intermittent sleep, and she couldn't stop herself from replaying the final nightmare she had had before Cid forced her awake, both utterly repulsed and entranced by the images that kept forcing themselves to the forefront of her shattered mind.

 _Who was that in my dream…?_

After bathing and dressing, she had followed Cid wordlessly down to the throne room from where she had been carried to bed the previous night – Harley's room, apparently, which had gone unused with its owner still-absent, dragging Harley's comforter with her as her wooden sandals clicked ominously across the granite tiles. She was still freezing cold, despite the Damcyan desert heat and the warm bath she had been offered, her hair hanging down her back in limp, damp curls that she was now trying to dry by the fire. She could hear Cid and the chancellor whispering behind her, but did not bother trying to be part of the conversation – all she could think about was Cecil and Ceodore.

That had been when Edward and Harley had suddenly appeared in the threshold of the throne room, both panting as if they had run the entire way back from Baron. It had been Harley that cried out in surprise, and it took Rosa a few seconds to realize she wasn't staring at a pair of ghosts or a hallucination. Cid pulled her closer, sensing her confusion.

"Cecil told us last night that you were sick," Edward blurted by way of greeting, and Rosa's eyebrows shot up. The spark of hope had ignited once more…

"…You _spoke_ to him? Cecil's alive…?"

Edward and Harley exchanged a look that made Rosa feel as if she had swallowed a pound of lead, promptly snuffing out her hopes once again. She knew that whatever was coming next was not going to be good, and mentally braced herself for the impact.

"…Yes…but…"

* * *

 _The Red Wings_

Now that she had been "disarmed", Kain had left Rosa to her own devices. She was leaning against the railing of the ship, watching despondently as the Damcyan desert dragged by beneath them. The ship was having trouble reaching full altitude to safely cross the mountains, and Kain had disappeared into the engine room to investigate. It would still only be a matter of time before they reached Baron – and with no hope of securing the crystals, she would have already thrown herself overboard if it hadn't been for Kain's malice-laced promise echoing with each beat of her heart.

 _"I'm going to kill Cecil."_

 _Why!?_ Rosa closed her eyes, cautiously leaning over the side in anticipation of the sickness churning in her gut. _Kain, what happened to you while you were away, and why are you suddenly back at the same time as the twin moon…? And why are you in a race against Cecil to obtain the crystals…?_

There had not been much time for a reunion when Edward and Harley had returned – Edward had explained that Baron was preparing for an assault to obtain Damcyan's crystal, orchestrated by Cecil himself. Rosa had been too stunned to digest it all at once – she had let Harley take her back to her bedroom while Cid helped Edward and the chancellor evacuate the rest of the castle's residents to the safety of the rarely-used underground dungeons. Cid had stopped by Harley's room one last time, telling Rosa that he was leaving to fix the Enterprise so that he could take Edward and the crystal to safety as soon as possible. Rosa could only remember fragments of the conversation – at one point, she had begged him to let her come, but both Harley and Cid had shut that down fairly quickly, Harley being forced to hold Rosa back as she cried and banged on the door.

"Queen Rosa, we need you here," Harley had said softly, stroking Rosa's hair as she sobbed into her hands. "If something happens to Edward – er, I mean, His Highness, and I, it will be up to you and Cid to protect our crystal. You remember from the castle's rebuilding ceremony sixteen years ago how to access the chamber, right? The key is King Edward's ring."

 _Edward…Harley…I'm sorry I failed you both._ Rosa felt her stomach twist violently with one last warning, giving her only seconds to spare before she retched over the side of the ship, choking on the bitter bile that lined her throat as her hair flopped in her eyes. Rubbing the corner of her mouth and pushing her hair away, she stifled another acid-tinged sob. _But I know now…Kain would have followed through on his threat if I hadn't shown him where the crystal chamber was…he would have murdered Edward before my eyes, and Damcyan would suffer the same fate as seventeen years prior. I just couldn't let that happen again…may the gods forgive me if I made the wrong choice!_

Suddenly, the airship shook so vigorously that Rosa lost her balance, her legs lifting vertically in the air as she banged against the side of the ship and let out an ear-piercing scream. The scenery before her seemed to crawl in slow-motion as she braced herself to plunge head-first into the depths. She knew that without her magic, there was no way she could survive the fall – she choked on a sob as Cecil's whispered name fell from her lips. She wanted him to be all that she could think about as she died, so that it would feel as painless as possible.

She heard a frenzied crash behind her as she tumbled over the railing, and felt a pair of hands embrace her from behind, pulling her back to the deck as effortlessly as one would lift a sack of feathers. The swirling sands of the desert disappeared, and Rosa found herself upright once more, staggering a bit as the blood rushed back down to the rest of her body from her head.

"Kain…!" Rosa gasped, whirling around to face her savior, a twinge of shame filling her now-emptied stomach from being so grateful to see him. "What was that!?"

Kain paid her no further mind, setting her aside as he stomped to the rear of the ship, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Rosa scrambled after him, nearly letting out a squeal of delight when she saw the cause of her near-demise.

The Enterprise was rapidly approaching, Cid in his bushy glory playing navigator at the helm. Rosa watched as he pulled a lever, and another powerful tremble overtook their ship – he was firing warning shots at Kain to force him to land.

"Hah hah!" Cid bellowed, his voice exploding from the radio embedded in the ship's rear that burst to life. "Just in time! The Enterprise ain't no spring chicken, but she's still got some kick! Just like me y'know!"

Rosa sniffled happily, suddenly having a much-renewed appreciation for Cid's intricate knowledge of the Baronian airship fleets. She lowered herself to the radio receiver, pressing the red button that she knew would transmit her voice over the channel he had opened.

"Cid!"

"Rosa, is that really you? Are you OK?"

"Ack!" Rosa screamed as Kain cut in front of her, jamming the button down and snarling into the microphone.

"You just won't die, will you? Not that it matters now. Rosa is already in my hands – so you'd better watch real carefully just who you are firing at! I can't be held responsible for what may happen to you if I have to tell Cecil you murdered his wife…right before I end him myself, of course." He clicked off the radio, and with a sneer, drove his foot through it, cutting them off from the outside world for good. Rosa swallowed nervously, inching back on her rear as Kain turned to her, grabbing her wrist and lifting her from the floor.

"Come along with me – you obviously can't be trusted to keep yourself alive. Let's spend a little quality time together before the final act, shall we? We have so much to catch up on, after all."


	25. Act Twenty-Five: The Dragoon's Tale

Act Twenty-Five: The Dragoon's Tale | The Dead Ringer

Ceodore and the hooded man were frozen in place, watching helplessly as the Red Wings' airship lifted from the ground, a whirlwind of sand and dust discharging into the air and erecting an ephemeral curtain over Damcyan Castle. The ship was still flying too low to make it over the oncoming mountain pass, yet it seemed to be undoubtedly heading southwest – toward Baron.

"What in the world is happening?" the hooded man frowned, and Ceodore gasped in reply, pointing due west of the castle.

"Look, another ship…!"

A resounding explosion tore through the skyline – the newcomer, an oak-paneled ship with billowing red and white sails, was firing cannons through the wall of smoke. Ceodore narrowed his eyes to get a better look, his throat clenching. He didn't want to dare to hope, or worse yet, realize he was suffering from an exhaustion-induced mirage, but the attacking ship was a far too-recognizable vessel from his childhood – no one else in the world ever had, or ever would have, an airship so splendid as the man who had helped craft with his own two hands the miracle of flight for the people of Baron.

"I…I think it's the Enterprise! Could that be Cid and my parents!?"

Another shot rang out, but this time, the Red Wings ship finally managed to right its course, soaring higher in the air in a sudden burst of momentum and fleeing its assailant. For a moment, Ceodore thought the Enterprise might give chase, but instead, it sunk back down to the ground without ceremony – it appeared that whoever was on board was going to make a stop at the castle.

"Let's go, Ceodore!" the hooded man commanded. "I fear for the crystal…"

"Yes!" Ceodore gasped, tears of fatigue springing to his eyes as he ran ahead, forcing his legs to pump harder than he had ever run in his life. With each stride, his feet sunk painstakingly in the sand – it was as if the desert itself was dragging him down with its claws, desperate to keep him away from the smoking castle and the terrifying secrets enveloped within. He could hear the hooded man grunting behind him, muttering curses he couldn't quite make out.

 _Mother, Father…I'm coming! Please, wait for me!_

"Hello!?" Ceodore shouted as they dashed through the castle courtyard. There came no response – the castle appeared to be utterly abandoned; their only company the overgrown raised beds of flowers that spilled from every corner. Ceodore whirled around, jogging backwards as he looked up at the hooded man.

"Where is everyone!?"

"Hopefully they got out before the Red Wings came. We should head for the keep – that's where the smoke is coming from."

The pair rushed up the next few flights of stairs, Ceodore breathlessly calling out on each floor, just in case someone needed aid. When they came to the throne room, whose doors had been blown open and were half-hanging from their hinges with smoke still trailing out, Ceodore stifled a gasp, tugging his scarf around his mouth and nose before diving inside. The hooded man wrapped his cloak tighter around his face, taking up the rear.

Kneeling on the floor near the now-decimated royal throne was Cid, propping up a fallen figure drenched in blood with a makeshift pillow he had created with his jacket. Ceodore leapt over the piles of debris, screaming Cid's name and promptly tripping over an overturned column in his rising hysteria. Falling flat on his face, he let out a pained groan, his silver headband imprinting a deep, throbbing groove over his forehead.

" _Ugh_ …Cid!"

The hooded man wordlessly bent down to help Ceodore to his feet as Cid whirled around, his lacquer pipe falling out of his mouth in shock and clattering to the floor as a semi-recovered Ceodore bounded over to him. He threw his arms around the old man's neck, burying his head in his fluffy white beard. He smelled like a heady combination of sweat, wood shavings, smoke and motor oil – Ceodore never thought he would be so happy to drown in such an odd, unpalatable scent again in his life.

"Whoa! Ceodore!" Cid cried, holding the boy tightly against him and shaking his head in disbelief. "You're alive and in one piece! Thank the gods above…!"

"Is that really Ceodore…?" a meek voice asked. Ceodore pulled away from Cid, blanching when he saw that the bloodied figure Cid had been tending to was none other than King Edward – the slight, trembling man had taken a horrible beating – his dull brown eyes were encircled in bruises as black as night, and it looked as if one half of his nose was caving in on itself, a trail of wet blood steadily dripping down the hollow of his cheek. His shoulder was a ruptured crater of yet more blood, which had been absorbed into his vest, creating a nauseating muddy hue. Despite all of this, Edward offered up a small smile, which the prince reluctantly returned.

"I almost didn't recognize you...but my god, you're the spitting image of Cecil now, aren't you? You're only a few years younger than he was when he and I first met, now that I think about it…time has gone far too quickly."

"M-Most people seem to think I look like my mother," Ceodore stammered, still overwhelmed by the sheer amount of blood he was staring at and wondering how they could be discussing something as asinine as his appearance at a time like this. "…Are you going to be OK?"

Edward laughed softly, although the way he cringed when he did so indicated to Ceodore that even such a small effort was excruciating. "Don't worry, Ceodore. It looks worse than it is."

"Yeah, just a half-broken nose and a stab wound," Cid sighed sarcastically. "No big deal. Now stay still a moment so I can finish bandaging this."

Ceodore paused, grateful for the break in conversation to take a better look at their surroundings. There were large scorch marks on the floors and walls from where a powerful fire had obviously run rampant, and entire chunks of the ceiling were missing, collapsed in various piles on the floor, providing some ventilation in the otherwise stifling room. It looked as if someone had taken a wrecking ball to the place, but hadn't quite finished the job. Ceodore noticed no one else other than the four of them, and frantically spun on his heel, turning back to Cid.

" _Mother_...where's Mother!? You didn't leave her behind in Baron, right?"

Cid shifted his eyes away guiltily, and Ceodore could feel the panic rising in his throat, his oxygen cutting off.

"…What about my father? Was he…?"

"I'm sorry, Ceodore," Edward cut in, and to Ceodore's surprise, managed to shift himself under his own power so that he was sitting up. Cid shot him a look, but ended up shifting behind Edward so that he could reach the rest of the shoulder wound. Edward lifted a handkerchief to his nose, dabbing the blood away tenderly as he looked up at the confused prince. Cid merely shook his head, leaning in to tie off the ends of the bandage and still avoiding Ceodore's pointed gaze as he muttered inaudibly.

"Ah, it's not your fault, Edward. I should've stayed with her..."

"What happened to her!?" Ceodore shrieked, black spots starting to fill his vision as the room spun around him. "What. HAPPENED!?"

"She's been taken away, Ceodore," Edward said softly. "I'm so very sorry – no matter what anyone else says, it _was_ my fault. She rushed from hiding to defend me, and…Kain took her. If it wasn't for Rosa, I would be dead right now." He looked down, exhaling shakily – the handkerchief dropped from his trembling fingers. "She did everything she could to save the crystal…but he got that too."

Ceodore's legs gave out from beneath him, and he fell to the broken floor tiles wordlessly, his eyes clouded with abysmal heartache. All of their effort, all of their pain, all of the suffering…and it had amounted to being just a few minutes too late to save her. If Kain had done this to Edward just to get a stupid crystal, what would he do to his mother…?

The hooded man clenched his jaw. " _What!?_ So he has the crystal, and Rosa?"

Cid glanced up at the hooded man, as if he was just now noticing him for the first time. "Wait up. Who's this guy?"

Ceodore kept staring ahead listlessly, Cid's question not even registering in his mind – how would he have answered it, at any rate? The hooded man shook his head, reaching down to grab Ceodore by the arm, the boy floundering in his grip like a rag doll.

"Never mind that – we'll talk later! To the Enterprise – _now_! We have to follow him, before it's too late…!"

"I'll come too," Edward murmured, and Cid crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nuh-uh, no way, no how. I'm taking you upstairs to Harley, and she's gonna put your skinny behind in bed where it belongs."

"No!" Edward protested. "Harley will be more useful here at the castle than I – I have to help save Rosa, no matter what – it's _my_ fault that she's gone. Besides, Ceodore is a white mage, right? He can finish patching me up on the ride over."

"I…" Ceodore lowered his gaze, sniveling and finally giving in to the hooded man's insistent hold on him, his legs trembling as he forced himself to stand back up. "I'll do my best to heal you, Edward…I do want us to go _together_. We don't know what Kain is capable of, right? We need all the help we can get…" He glanced up at the hooded man as if to get a confirmation of his suspicions about just how dangerous Kain might be. The hooded man frowned and looked away, crossing his arms.

"Oh, fine," Cid sighed, rising to his feet and reaching down to support Edward, who was all too happy to use the sturdy old man as a crutch. "I can't say no to this kid…can't say no to anyone in this damn family, apparently! I think when this is all said and done, I may finally retire."

* * *

 _The Red Wings_

Rosa's eyes never left Kain's, even as she stared solemnly into the mirror's reflection before her. He had dragged her into the berth below deck, locking the two of them in a room he had obviously been spending quite a bit of time in. She was overwhelmed by his scent when she was shoved inside, although it wasn't entirely in a discomforting way – it was more nostalgic and strangely assuaging than anything else. She had once heard that there were times a certain scent could trigger repressed or forgotten memories deep inside one's brain – but for her, she had never let herself forget any of her precious memories of the person who had once been her best friend – she had told herself that he might never come back to her if she forgot even one tiny detail about him – like her mind was the only force keeping him tethered in their reality.

But he was here now…although something had apparently gone terribly wrong along the way.

And even though Kain had said he wanted to "catch up", he actually hadn't answered any of her questions with anything more than a frustratingly knowing look or a clap of laughter: Where had he been for the last seventeen years? Why did he leave Baron? Who had he seen during his time away? What had he been doing, thinking, feeling…?

She tried again with another question, her hand shaking as she reached up, tracing a finger over her lower lip to flake away the dried blood.

"How did you get your hands on a Red Wings ship, Kain?" _Cecil didn't loan you a ship to aid in attacking the other nations that held crystals…right?_

Kain raised an eyebrow. "There are no more Red Wings. They were annihilated in an accident – or monster attack, depending on which story you believe – the morning the moon returned. I picked up on the rumors while I was relieving Mysidia of their crystal. They've no need of a ship while rotting in the ground, so why shouldn't I use it?"

As she listened, Rosa stiffly swept the hairbrush that had been left on the crate-turned vanity through her hair – she didn't know whose it was and didn't care to find out – wondering if the stabbing sensation that had suddenly ruptured in her chest was her heart shattering into a million pieces – if they would tear through her circulatory system like crystal fragments until she had been sliced to ribbons and fell dead at Kain's feet, at last relieved of this needless agony.

 _Ceodore…is that why you never came home…? By the time Baron fell, you were already…!_

She swallowed, the taste of blood mingling with vomit burning her throat. She realized by the disinterested curve of Kain's lips that he had no clue about the crushing impact of the "rumors" he had gleefully shared – he didn't know Ceodore existed, after all – let alone that he had been with the Red Wings the day of the accident thanks to a sick jest of the gods.

She realized that she still didn't want him to know about Ceodore, either. She slowly lowered the brush, cringing at the tiny "click" it made against the crate. Mechanically, her fingers swept through her hair, her eyes locked on her captor's through the safety of the mirror's reflection. He was watching intensely as her fingers lifted the veil of hair from her neck, meticulously gathering it into her fist above the crown of her head.

If she didn't do something with her hands to keep her mind distracted from Ceodore's fate and from the massacre Kain was arranging for her to come home to, she was afraid she would reach for his lance and proceed to slit her own throat.

 _My son is dead…the crystals are lost…and if Kain manages to find Cecil…!_

"Kain...just tell me… _why_?"

Kain looked away from her cold stare to his folded hands – he had been imagining what it would feel like to run his fingers over the sleek curve of her neck hidden beneath that waterfall of hair.

"Heh heh...Hah hah hah hah!" he suddenly laughed, Rosa's chest contracting at the sinister sound. She didn't say anything, hoping he would elaborate on whatever it was he found so damn funny as she carefully tugged a thick lock free from her fist, using it to wrap around the base of the ponytail and securing it in place with a knot. She turned around in her chair, her hair spilling down her back as Kain extended his hand toward her.

"I've reserved a front-row seat for you, Rosa...just so you can watch as Cecil dies right before your eyes. I know you don't understand why…but you will when it's all over. I swear to you, everything will become clear – you just have to trust me."

"Answer the question, Kain!" she hissed, shoving the chair away and crossing the short distance between them to the bed he had claimed as his seat, smacking his hand away with a loud crack. Despair had suddenly given way to blood-boiling anger – his lance stashed in the corner of the room near the doorway caught her eye, and she could feel her fingers twitching longingly. Before she could make a dive for it, he rose to meet her, blocking her way and grasping her chin in his hand. His other hand encircled her waist, trapping her against him. She had to push up on her tiptoes to keep her neck from straining in his grip, and could see her lip quivering as he stared down at her zealously.

"How about you answer a question for me instead? Why do you still care about Cecil, even after everything he's done?"

 _Because he loves me. Because of his heart. Because he gave me our son, and a chance at having a family that was whole. Because we shared a dream._

 _Because it was never an option to love him or not. I just always have._

Rosa closed her eyes – she couldn't bear the way he was ravaging her with his stare, like he was about to unhinge his jaw and swallow her whole.

"…It doesn't matter."

"Heh," Kain shook his head, brushing her bangs out of her face and releasing her before turning to leave, making it a point to seize his lance in the process – he had picked up on the deliciously crazed look on her face when she had laid her eyes on it. "It might matter once you see him again – you'll be begging for me to end it and set you free. Apparently, our Cecil hasn't been himself as of late – he's got a new girl hanging around, too."

"You don't know anything," Rosa said quietly, her fists clenching at her sides. "You haven't seen him. I heard what you told Edward – unless you were lying."

"I've never lied to you a day in my life," Kain said coolly, his hand on the latch. "You'll do well to remember that – the same can't be said about your precious Cecil." With that, he stepped outside, slamming and locking the door behind him. All of the temporary strength Rosa's rage had lent her escaped through her pores like a deflating balloon, and she collapsed on the bed, her wide, watering eyes rolled up toward the ceiling.

Kain had struck another nerve – maybe not on purpose, but she found it very hard to believe that he didn't know more about Cecil's current state of mind than he was hinting. She recalled the rushed conversation she had had with Harley before she had stumbled upon Kain and Edward in combat. Her stomach twisted as each line replayed in her head – she was about to become sick all over again, wondering just exactly who – or what – it was she would be coming home to.

* * *

"Queen Rosa."

Rosa turned away from the window, surprised to see the statuesque scholar standing behind her, polishing her glasses with the sleeve of her jacket and staring at her expectantly. She had been staring wordlessly at the twin moons, of which Harley had a perfect view of from her bedroom.

 _Golbez…that's not your moon, is it? Something about all of this just feels too new…even as the tragedies of the past stand to repeat once again…_

"It's just Rosa," she replied absentmindedly, still lost in thought. She said that same line to Harley so often that her brain just went on auto-pilot, regardless of what the actual conversation was about.

"Er…Rosa," Harley tried, making a face as if she had just bitten into something sour. "Listen…There is something I think you should know about King Cecil, just in case he shows up in-person looking for the crystal. I feel that King Edward kind of glossed over it in his rush to get us out of the way of the battle preparations…"

"What about Cecil?" Rosa asked softly. _Now_ Harley had her full attention. "The chancellor told us he was acting strangely about the meteor…what did he tell you when you went to see him?"

"More of the same as what was in his message, I'm afraid," Harley frowned. "But seeing him for myself…it was like I was talking to a complete stranger, and he couldn't have been colder to King Edward. Was there anything at all that we might have done to offend that you know of?"

"What…? No, of course not!" Rosa's hand flew to her mouth. "It was _that_ bad?"

"I'm afraid so. He told us if the Lunarians had returned that it was his personal responsibility to deal with it, rejecting King Edward's offer to help. And he gave my lord a strange box as a parting gift…he suspects that was King Cecil's way of springing the trap for our crystal. He called it a Carnelian Signet."

"…The same item that destroyed Mist seventeen years ago?"

"Yes, the very same, according to how my lord interpreted the conversation he overheard between King Cecil and a woman we were not able to identify. It would seem they are working together to gather the world's crystals."

Rosa shook her head, the only thing keeping her standing at this point being pure adrenaline. "Everything you are saying…well, to be honest, it sounds like a poorly thought-out ruse. Cecil would never treat his friends like that…and to partner with some woman none of us have ever met to seize the crystals? It's nigh-on fiction."

"I agree with you, Your Highness," Harley shrugged. "It would seem that we agree, then – that perhaps the person we met in Baron was not King Cecil at all."

"Wait… _what_?"

It was then that the crash rang out from the chamber below – if Rosa remembered the layout of the castle correctly, that meant it would have come from Edward's throne room. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and before she could stop herself, she had run to the bedroom door, throwing it open. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to get downstairs – that something terrible was about to happen…that someone she loved dearly would be the one to pull the trigger, setting something irreversible and unforgivable into motion.

 _This feeling…this presence…I haven't felt it in seventeen years…how…?_

"Rosa!" Harley cried. "Where are you going!?" She ran only as far as the threshold, watching with dismay as Rosa fled down the tower steps, disappearing from sight.

* * *

 _The Enterprise_

Ceodore sat mutely, his face white with shock as Cid finished telling the group everything he and Rosa had been through since the morning the twin moon had returned. He had set the Enterprise to auto-pilot, although he had purposely lessened the speed so that Kain could get just far enough ahead to not catch them tailing him. None of them could be sure what Kain would do with Rosa on board, but what Cid _was_ sure of was that the Red Wings were outfitted with plenty of weapons, and he knew Kain could use every single one of them with ease. Everyone had agreed that it was best not to put the Enterprise in a situation where Kain would feel the temptation to use a weapon in the first place.

Ceodore slid his fingers through his hair, his eyes watering. From what he had been able to piece together between Cid's tale and his own, it appeared that the Red Wings and Baron were attacked roughly at the same time. Cecil had ordered Cid and Rosa to flee, and the two of them had wandered for several days, not knowing what to do or from whom they should hide, while Ceodore and his companion had made their way through Baron, Mist and Kaipo. In the meantime, Edward's land had been desecrated by a mysterious meteor, he had been threatened by Cecil, attacked by Kain, and the final crystal was now in enemy hands, according to Kain's insane ramblings.

"This can't be happening...I've heard so many stories about Kain and his brave deeds, and this is who he turns out to be? A crystal thief and a kidnapper? Why is he so angry at Mother and Father?"

The hooded man, who had remained silent for the duration of their trip thus far, continued to say nothing. Cid gave Ceodore's shoulder a reluctant squeeze, and Edward shook his head.

"Please don't worry, Ceodore. I doubt he'd ever lay a hand on Rosa – he cares for her very deeply." He frowned, taking a sip of the potion Cid had scrounged up for him to supplement the healing spells Ceodore had cast upon him. "Cecil, on the other hand...it sounds like they're on bad terms again."

Ceodore looked up. "My father!? That's right…Cid, you said he never left Baron! If that's true, why didn't we see him when we infiltrated the castle? It was completely abandoned except for some brain-washed soldiers!" He looked over at the hooded man. "Right?"

The hooded man crossed his arms. "…Right."

"I don't know, kiddo," Cid frowned. "Edward, you did say you saw Cecil yesterday, right?"

"I did," Edward nodded. "But unfortunately, our stories don't add up with the conversation I had with him. Why would Cecil tell me that Ceodore was out of the castle for training and that Rosa was sick? Clearly, he would have known that Ceodore's training had ended – he was due home the morning the moon returned. And he sent Rosa away himself – I'm sure he would be as surprised as I was to learn she had landed on my doorstep. He clearly has no idea where either of his family members are…"

Ceodore growled under his breath, digging his fingers into his scalp. "This doesn't sound like Father. None of this makes sense…and now my head hurts."

The hooded man strode to the bow of the ship, taking a look through the scope Cid had specially installed as one of the Enterprise's custom upgrades.

"Cid – we need to go faster! Kain is gaining too much of a lead…it will be too late if he keeps up this pace."

"Too late for what?" Ceodore blinked, and the hooded man whirled around.

"Ceodore, if Kain finds your father, he is going to _kill_ him."

"What!?" Ceodore shrieked, and Edward tilted his head. He had been trying to spare that little detail of Kain's impromptu visit from Ceodore – the boy already looked as if he were about to pass out from fear about Rosa. But he supposed the cat was out of the bag now – their mysterious new ally seemed to have an appreciation for cutting straight to the chase.

"It sounds as if you know Kain's agenda quite well if you've managed to track him this far and have figured out why he came to Baron. Who did you say you were again?"

"I didn't," the hooded man replied snidely. "And it's not important. I'm just someone with a score to settle that happened to come across Prince Ceodore on the way. It was mutually beneficial for us to travel together."

 _Mutually beneficial…_ Ceodore recoiled and closed his eyes. He had known all along, but it still had hurt worse than he thought it would have when it was finally said aloud – a stinging sentiment given oxygen and ushered into what had rapidly become his new ugly reality. A teeny, tiny, smallish portion of his heart thought that maybe he had actually succeeded in making a friend – but at most, it looked as if he had just gotten a temporary business associate. He was sorely tempted to share with the group just _why_ the hooded man was so interested in meeting up with Kain, but he realized with a sinking horror that if someone had to die tonight, that he didn't want it to be his father.

And if Cecil staying alive meant that meant the hooded man needed to complete his mission and kill Kain…

 _…Then so be it._ Ceodore would keep the hooded man's goals close to his chest so that there would be no potential interference from the others. He wasn't sure how deeply Cid or Edward's loyalties lay with Kain, after all – especially now that Cecil appeared to be hunting the world's crystals too.

Cid sighed, lumbering up to the navigation system and punching in a series of codes – he was removing the auto-pilot and taking over the Enterprise himself. They were crossing over the Misty Valley – with Cid behind the wheel it would be no time at all before they would be back in Baron.

The exhausted engineer said aloud what everyone on the ship had been thinking as he revved up the engine to catch up to Kain, sending his fellow passengers stumbling forward from the sudden burst in speed.

"…What in the heck is going on here?"

* * *

 _The Red Wings_

Kain killed the engine on the airship – Rosa could hear the gears and pistons and everything else far beyond her knowledge that made the ship come to life fade in their knocking and grinding through the walls of her little prison. She sat up in bed, rubbing her bloodshot eyes as the door flew open. Kain appeared before her, practically glowing with excitement.

"Come, Rosa! It's time for the main event!"

"Kain…" Rosa began, but lost her train of thought when he sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and touching the tip of his nose to hers. It was such an unexpected, undesired burst of affection that Rosa's cheeks exploded in an angry blush. He leaned in yet closer, and she tried not to outwardly cringe as his lips brushed over hers while he whispered.

"You'll see me walk right up to him..."

"Kain!" Rosa cried, regaining her senses and scooting so far off the bed that she miscalculated and crashed to the floor. He towered over her, his smile twisting grotesquely as she inched back with every step he took toward her, letting out a shriek when her rear hit the wall – there was officially nowhere left for her to run.

"…And tear him apart limb from limb!"

"You're insane!"

Kain snorted, grabbing Rosa by the arm and roughly lifting her from the ground. She screamed as loud as she could possibly manage, but knew that nobody would come – if the soldiers at the castle had been like the ones Edward had defeated in Damcyan, none of them would bother coming to her rescue.

"Let me go!" Rosa protested as Kain dragged her down the ramp of the ship toward the castle gates. She dug her heels in the ground defiantly while Kain ignored her pleas, yanking her back to her feet as if she were a child throwing a tantrum when they finally met up with the guards.

"Move it!" Kain barked. "I've got the crystals...and I've got Rosa, too!"

The guards stepped aside without comment, and Rosa let out another scream that echoed maddeningly in the great hall – but still, no one came.

The doors slid shut behind them silently.

* * *

 _The Enterprise_

"Prepare for touchdown!" Cid called out, and Ceodore, Edward and the hooded man scrambled for something to brace themselves to. Ceodore's heart nearly burst when he saw the towers of his castle come into view – it felt like it had been years since he had been home again, even though it was mere days.

The hooded man slid next to Ceodore, who looked up at him apprehensively.

"Ceodore…no matter what happens in there…all that I ask of you is that you follow whatever it is your heart tells you to do. Above anything else, you must learn to trust your intuition."

"What?" Ceodore blinked. The airship came to a complete stop, and he could hear the ramp unfurling beneath them.

"That will be your last lesson," the hooded man gave him small smile. "We've covered traversing the Devil's Road, breaking into your own castle, catching chocobos, spelunking, cliff scaling, waterfall diving, and combat. I'd say that overall, you've been a stellar student. Your father is not going to recognize you when you see him again."

 _Although unfortunately, that could be taken quite literally if what I suspect is coming to pass is true._

"Hold on a second," Ceodore frowned. "First of all, I don't remember agreeing to be your student – that implies some sort of trusted relationship. Second…what do you mean by _last_ lesson? So you really are going to ditch us once you find Kain?"

"I'm sorry, Ceodore…one way or the other, I may not be able to be by your side after this. I've made peace with it – I hope you can, too. This would have happened regardless of your family's connection with Kain Highwind – I can assure you of that much."

"You are being ridiculous…" Ceodore began, tears stinging his eyes – but the hooded man had walked away, bounding down the ramp and running to the castle gates, his cloak unfurling behind him in the wind. Edward approached Ceodore, gently touching his shoulder – he had mistaken Ceodore's tears for nerves.

"You don't have to come inside if you don't want, Ceodore – we'll make sure to find both of your parents."

Ceodore shook his head quickly, grinding the tears from his eyes. It disheartened him how easily it had become for him to craft little white lies – but he feared Edward would never understand – _he_ didn't even understand the chaos that was unfurling in his heart.

"No, sorry – just got a little emotional about finally returning home. I'm going too."

* * *

"Haaah hah hah! I'm coming for you, Cecil!" Kain sang, admiring the way his baritone reverberated off of the castle walls. Rosa limped behind him, her eyes on the ground as she tried her best to conceal the spell she was attempting to cast – but alas, it was for naught anyway. She was still cursed with Silence – her body had not been rested enough on the ship to attempt a recovery on its own. Kain looked back over his shoulder as he dragged her along, raising his eyebrow.

"Where do you think Cecil is at this time of day, my dear? You know his schedule far better than I – is he consorting in the practice yards, perhaps? Taking a nap in the west tower? Or maybe he's in the throne room, regaling an audience? I'm sure wherever he is; we'll find his new lady friend as well. She seems to keep a tight leash on him."

Rosa didn't reply – she could feel her heart shattering all over again, and wondered if her body would be merciful and shut down before they reached her unsuspecting husband. Kain shrugged and proceeded to go forward through the next set of doors.

"Throne room it is, then."

* * *

"No one may pass..." Ceodore heard the soldiers guarding the front gate drone to the hooded man, Cid and Edward trailing behind him.

The hooded man withdrew his sword as a final warning. "Out of the way!"

"Ceodore!" Cid hissed. "What is the meaning of this, letting him raise a blade to the castle guard?" Ceodore lowered his eyes, his fingers clutching Cid's jacket.

"You'll see…they're not human anymore. I've…I've been around enough of them to tell now."

"What?" Cid frowned, and there was a blinding flash of light as the hooded man drove his blade into the first soldier's abdomen – the body exploded into a cloud of dust that rained over the hooded man's cloak as he dove in for the second kill. Cid stared wordlessly ahead, and Ceodore released his jacket, swallowing.

"Ceodore…I'm so sorry…" Edward pressed his hand to his mouth. "Why is this happening to Baron all over again…?"

* * *

Kain turned to face Rosa in the antechamber, yanking her shivering form next to him as he rested his free hand on the doors that would take them into the throne room she had shared with Cecil what felt like many lifetimes ago.

"Finally…I will be released from this hell! Yes, Cecil…I'll be free from you at last!"

"Kain, I am begging you! Whatever you think Cecil did to you – it's not true! Please…you have to wake up! _This isn't you!_ "

"How many times do I have to tell you?!" Kain roared, his lips turning white with strain. "I am awake! This is me – the me I have always been, the me I have always longed to show you! Why can't you just accept me for who I am, Rosa? Will nothing I ever do be good enough for you!?"

Rosa stepped back as far as his hold on her would allow, her eyes watering.

"You say you have never lied to me Kain…but you are lying to yourself. I know you…I know you better than anyone else on this planet – yes, including Cecil, who loves you with all his being – who has missed you every minute you've been gone! I _know_ this isn't who you really are. Whatever you are pretending to be…end it now, before you do something you live to truly regret. It's not too late…" She looked up at the throne room doors, sealed tightly shut before them.

"…It will never be too late for us to go back to how it used to be – not as long as the three of us are together. Time, distance…none of that can erode what we had!"

Kain pressed his lips together, and for just a fraction of a second, Rosa felt his hold on her arm slacken. But a fresh wave of boiling, ugly rage and pain reared forth once more, flooding his eyes in darkness as he dug his fingernails through the sleeves of her gown, branding her with bloodied, pointed half-moon marks.

"Ahhhhhh!" Rosa shrieked, and Kain slammed his hand on the door latch, pressing down.

The doors they had come through to reach the antechamber suddenly burst open behind them, and Ceodore stumbled inside, letting out a stunned whimper when he spotted Rosa and Kain's retreating forms. They both spun around at the sound of the doors screaming on their hinges, Rosa's breath catching in her throat at the sight of her son running toward her – smiling, whole, and undisputedly _alive_.

"Mother!" Ceodore choked, reaching his hand out for her as he blinked away his tears.

"Ceodore!" Rosa exhaled sharply and violently shoved the heel of her sandal into Kain's ankle. Kain let out a yelp, the shooting pain exploding up his leg enough of an incentive to release her. Stumbling forward, Rosa met Ceodore in the middle of the room, pulling him into her arms and pressing her lips to his hair over and over as she began to sob. "My darling…I'm so happy you're alive…oh gods, where have you been!?"

"Mother…" Ceodore sniffled, burying his head into her chest as he clung to the back of her dress. "I'm…I'm sorry for everything…I…I don't even know where to start…"

Rosa pressed her hands to his cheeks, trailing her lips over his forehead and the tip of his nose. "Ceodore, what happened? What could you possibly have to be sorry for…?"

"…What is the meaning of this?" Kain interrupted, hesitantly limping toward them like Ceodore was a bomb set to go off at any minute. He pointed his finger accusingly. "Who is this little brat?"

Ceodore raised his head at the acerbic voice, flinching as he took his first long gaze at whom it belonged – a dragoon wrapped in armor as dark as night, a sash the color of fresh blood trailing from his hair. Even though his face was concealed by a helmet shaped like a dragon's maw that appeared to be consuming his very flesh, Ceodore could sense that he was being glared at with an almost incapacitating hatred. _This_ wretch of a man was a legend in Baron – the famed hero who had saved their planet, and supposedly once his father's best friend. He pulled away from Rosa, lifting his chin as he took a step forward.

"I'm Ceodore Harvey – first of his name, son of Queen Rosa Joanna Farrell, the Crown Prince of Baron, esteemed Knight of the Red Wings, and heir to the holy paladin, King Cecil Harvey. And you're Kain Highwind, I presume? A Dragoon, Ex-Baron, if I recall from the tales…"

Kain's face twisted in confusion, his eyes flicking between Rosa and Ceodore's twin stares as if he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing.

"You…you have a son? _With Cecil_? How did this come to pass?"

"The usual way, I suppose," Rosa said dryly, and Ceodore couldn't help but cringe at the particular image that brought to mind. There came a clamor of hurried footsteps, and Ceodore turned to the door, where he saw the hooded man, Cid and Edward approaching them from the next hall.

"You!" Kain cried, brandishing his lance as the hooded man crossed the threshold first. His cloak had been blown back from his head, and his hair was a mess of knots and tangles tossed over his shoulder.

"Found you," the hooded man smirked, and Ceodore noticed his mother staring incredulously at him, a shaking hand pressed to her mouth. She rose to her full height, her eyes shining with tears that clung to her lashes like diamond dust. Her voice cracked as she took a step forward, mumbling against her fingers.

"Kain!?"

The hooded man spun around to face Rosa as she approached, his sneer faltering when their eyes locked. Ceodore saw something burst to life in his gaze that he had never before witnessed: the icy blue of his eyes were illuminated as brightly as the twin moons, filled with such beautiful brilliance that it almost hurt to stare for too long. A fiery blush lit up his mother's cheeks, and she slowly shook her head, lowering her hand to reveal a beaming smile.

"Of course…" she whispered, her words seemingly just for him. "…It's _you_ I've been waiting for."

"Huh!?" Ceodore blinked. He turned back to the hooded man, who was still staring at Rosa wordlessly, and then turned to Kain, who was glaring at all of them with unfettered disdain. He slid to his mother's side, gently taking her arm – he wanted to be near in case Kain tried anything sudden. Cid and Edward gawked from the rear of the room, not understanding at all what they had just walked into – Rosa and the hooded man had seemingly withdrawn into their own private universe. Ceodore's hesitant touch broke whatever spell had woven itself between Rosa and the hooded man, and she returned to her senses, cutting a glance at Kain.

"So...who are _you_?"

Kain snorted. "I am Kain. The _real_ Kain." He thrust his lance toward the hooded man, who didn't even flinch. "And this pathetic fool's back to shame himself in public for one last time, I see!"

The hooded man crossed his arms defiantly. "That's right."

"Mother…why did you call him "Kain"?" Ceodore frowned. "He's…uh…" He trailed off when he remembered that he didn't actually know _who_ the hooded man was. Rosa bit her lip, pulling Ceodore closer against her, her gaze drifting back toward the hooded man. His hand was now resting on the hilt of his blade, but his eyes had never left the queen.

"This man before you is Kain Highwind. The man in the dragoon armor…he's a fake."

Cid and Edward gasped simultaneously, and Ceodore's jaw hit the floor – it felt as if someone had taken the antechamber and turned it upside down like a snow globe – it was all he could do to keep his legs from failing him again.

"Mother, that's impossible…I've been traveling with him this entire time, and he never said…!"

 _How can he_ _ **be**_ _Kain if he wants to_ _ **kill**_ _him?_

"There are two of them…?!" Edward murmured. "Does Kain have a twin?"

"Definitely not," Cid frowned. "Their mannerisms and the way they move are identical – like a reflection in the mirror. Not even Palom and Porom are that similar."

The Kain dressed in dragoon armor stepped forward, the tip of his lance hovering over the hooded man's chest. Finally, the hooded man turned to meet his glare, the corner of his mouth twitching into a sneer. Kain tilted his head, and for a brief moment, the hooded man caught a glimpse of the madness seeping from his eyes…

"Ha…so you think I'm the fake? Let's settle this once and for all! If that's what it takes…then I'll fight to prove who I really am!"

The hooded man withdrew his sword, side-stepping gracefully just as Kain thrust his lance forward. He parried with a fierce blow to Kain's left side, sparks flying off his blade when it struck Kain's armor. Kain let out an angry roar as he clutched his side, stumbling backward as the hooded man followed up with a kick square to his chest, sending him flying back against the throne room doors with a deafening crash.

"Oh my god," Ceodore gasped aloud, and the hooded man turned to him, holding out his palm.

"Stay far away, Ceodore! I need you to protect Rosa!"

"A-Alright!" Ceodore blinked, shifting into a defensive stance before his mother. She covered her mouth to disguise her fear – but Ceodore could still feel her knees knocking behind him.

Kain pulled himself up from the floor, laughing and spinning his lance back around. "That's right! This is my own battle…If anyone interferes, I'll kill them too!"

Cid and Edward rushed to Rosa and Ceodore, flanking Rosa on opposite sides as Ceodore stood guard in front. Kain jumped in the air, grabbing hold of the tiered gold and crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and swinging outward, somersaulting into a chest dive with his weapon thrust forward.

"Look out!" Ceodore cried.

But his warning came too late – the skies were Kain's domain as a dragoon, and the hooded man couldn't move fast enough on the ground to dodge Kain's streamlined path of flight. The lance plunged into the hooded man's ribs, sending a spray of blood on the floor as he collapsed to his knees, howling in pain. Kain landed behind him effortlessly, kicking his dropped sword away and ripping the lance out of the hooded man's wound. As he arched his back, his screams intensifying with agony razing his form, Kain smashed him in the back of the head with his foot, knocking him flat to the ground into a pool of his own blood.

"Kain!" Rosa cried, and the dragoon, thinking she was calling to him, turned toward her voice. The hooded man took advantage of the distraction, clamping one of Kain's feet with his legs and twisting himself onto his back, using the momentum to trip Kain up and send him crashing to the ground. He scrambled to his feet despite the throbbing protests of his body, returning Kain's kick with several of his own. His last attack was so frenzied that his boot caught on the extended lid of the dragon's snout, sending Kain's helmet flying through the air. Cid and Edward shoved Rosa down just in time for it to sail over her head and shatter against the wall behind her, steel and crystal raining from above.

Ceodore could feel Rosa's fingers digging into his shoulders painfully as she lifted herself back up, but he couldn't make the effort to pull away – he had become paralyzed with numbing, mind-clouding terror when he saw what had been hidden from them beneath the helmet.

Kain managed to roll away from the hooded man and lifted his head, his fingers gingerly brushing over the split lip that he had been gifted from the final kick as he started to laugh to himself, tossing his head back so that his hair fell away over his shoulders. The malice-drowned fiend Ceodore saw before him was a dead ringer of the man who had become his savior the first night of the twin moon's return. It was true enough that Kain's eyes were darkened pools of obsidian creased with shadow, and his lips were tinged violet, like he had been continuously sipping from a flask of poison – but every other feature was impossibly identical to the hooded man's: From the arch of his pale brow, to the slope of his aristocratic nose, and the contoured ivory hollow of his jaw line.

 _How can there really be two of them if they are not twins?_ Ceodore screamed internally. _Someone, tell me what's going on!_

The hooded man clutched his mangled side, wincing as he tried to stay the bloodletting – the convulsions of pain had become so overbearing that he was struggling not to sway on his feet. Kain let out a sudden growl and launched himself forward, slamming the hooded man back down to the ground – the crack of his skull crashing into the stone floor turning Ceodore's stomach. Kain reared back on his knees over the hooded man's crumpled form, smashing his fist into his face over and over as he ground his armored knee deeper into the wound. The hooded man feebly raised his arms in an attempt to protect himself, but Kain easily tugged them away, punching him yet again with his other hand.

The dragoon's laughter grew louder, his knuckles cracking as he flexed his bloodied fingers and sat back on the hooded man's legs to take a momentary rest. "What's the matter!? _This is what you wanted all along_. You wanted Cecil dead so you could have Rosa for yourself!"

"Ugh…" the hooded man groaned, his eyes closing. Ceodore lowered his head, his lungs burning as he tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to detonate from his very core.

 _It can't end like this…it just can't! I thought you were stronger than this? You came all this way, put yourself in senseless danger, and you're finally reunited with Mother – now you're not even going to complete your mission?_

 _It's unacceptable!_

"Stop it!" Ceodore cried, and without realizing what he was doing, dove forward, throwing himself on Kain's back and wrapping his arms around his throat in a chokehold. Kain growled as he tried to throw the boy off, but Ceodore held on for dear life, slamming his knee into Kain's spine. Kain roared his displeasure and clawed at Ceodore's arms with his razor-sharp nails, the searing agony pulsing with each beat of the boy's heart as Kain's fingers tore through his skin. Ceodore arched his back, pulling tighter on Kain's neck despite the objections of his tiring body.

 _Please, if the gods can hear me…give me the strength to save my friend…!_

"Kain!" Rosa gasped, scrambling to the hooded man's side and collapsing next to him while Ceodore distracted the dragoon. She brushed the hair out of his eyes, wincing as her fingertips touched the rapidly-swelling welts on his face. "Open your eyes…please…!"

"Rosa!" Dragoon Kain growled, finally managing to grab hold of Ceodore's arm and give it a violent jerk backwards – a nauseating popping sound reverberated in the boy's skull as his shoulder dislocated, and everything around him began to drift about in agonizingly slow motion as the first wave of pain deluged his senses.

And then all at once, the room exploded in a flare of holy radiance.

Ceodore's scream was lost in the piercing shriek of the light as now-familiar warmth enveloped his body, infusing his life force with stardust and weaving through his torn shoulder and battered body with the force of a raging river. His vitality renewed and his form overflowing with infinite vigor, Ceodore used Kain's back as a springboard, slamming his feet into his shoulder blades and launching himself into a backward somersault to gain some ground between the two of them. Kain stumbled under the prince's strength, falling to his knees and frantically feeling for his lost weapon in the depths of the blinding light.

The hooded man slowly opened his eyes, the world around him immersed in a mist of shimmering brilliance. A tender caress, soft as the down of a phoenix, trailed down the path from his temple through his jaw, and he could just barely make out slightly-parted lips, the shape of a cupid's bow…

 _Rosa…my greatest and most selfish fear while I was away was that you and Cecil would forget about me. Now I understand just how foolish I was...But I fear it's too late._

The mist was beginning to clear; he could feel the last lingering motes of holy energy sinking into his restored tendons, could see the way his skin glowed with the divine blessings of moonlight. Rosa's face came into deeper focus above his, twin trails of tears running down her cheeks as her lips moved again, her pleas finally breaking through the airwaves.

"…Please, open your eyes!"

He suddenly shot up, a rush of air expelling from his lungs, and she gasped in shock, falling back on her knees. He spotted Ceodore and the dragoon in the midst of a showdown, Ceodore's platinum hair standing on end and imbued in celestial blue moonlight, his depthless cerulean stare locked on the dragoon as he took hold of his lost lance and made his advance toward the prince.

The hooded man rose, extending his left hand. Another pulse of light rolled through the room in a shockwave, Ceodore's eyes flashing as a sapphire and silver twin-bladed lance materialized in the hooded man's grasp, snow-white ribbons of diamonds, pearls and holy emblems trailing from the razor-edged wings affixed at the vamplate.

Rosa widened her eyes. "That weapon…it looks like the holy lance you found deep within the Lunar Subterrane seventeen years ago…"

"Stand back, Rosa!" he commanded, and Edward and Cid stepped forward to shield her as she backed away without reply, allowing them to pull her to her feet. The hooded man leapt into the air, and the dragoon made a sudden dive forward, aiming his blade for Ceodore's heart. Ceodore remained wordlessly, frozen in place by a deep trance – his was body already demanding payment for the miracle to which he had given life. He closed his eyes, tears spilling over his cheeks as his spent body ignored his brain's final desperate pleas to run away.

 _Mother…Father…I'm so sorry for everything…_

 _Kain, I beg of you – please save them…and Baron!_

The dragoon's eyes widened as he came to an abrupt halt, a trickle of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth as his lips parted in confusion. Ceodore wondered what was taking so long – surely, he would have felt the steel piercing his heart by now – opening his eyes mutely only to see the dragoon collapsing to his knees before him, glistening twin blades thrust cleanly through his torso. Behind him, the hooded man retracted his weapon, and the dragoon slumped to the floor, his body convulsing all over as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

"Y-You...!"

The darkness that took Ceodore was sudden and welcomed – the last of his energy drained, he was released from his paralysis, his body sailing backwards through the air. Rosa tore herself away from Cid and Edward, screaming his name as she threw herself in his path to catch him.

The hooded man bent to one knee over the fallen dragoon, lowering his head and extending his hand toward Kain's seizing form. "I am ready to accept you now."

* * *

 _Mount Ordeals, the day before the moon's return_

"…I have finally been released! Freedom is mine at last!"

"Who are y-you...?" Kain pressed his hand over the tepid, slimy wound that had blossomed in his abdomen – when he dared to look down to see how bad it was, he realized with horror that his flesh had become transparent beneath his shattered armor – he could see the exposed tendons of his muscles and the pooling blood through his clenched fingers as easily as if he had been gazing through a window. There wasn't a single inch of his body that wasn't ravaged in torment – he could even feel the fibers of his hair twitching in pain.

 _What is happening…? It feels like the weight of my very bones is lifting from my body…like something deep inside me has been ripped away._

The dragoon offered a cold smile. "It's not obvious yet? I am... _you_! I am what you really feel, deep down in your heart! And thanks to your _eagerness_ to step aside, I can finally go forth into the world that rejected you and make all of our beautiful dreams come true…" He turned away, his boots crunching through the crystal shards as he took his leave, the blade of his lance dragging aimlessly on the glass tile and releasing a blood-chilling shriek into the air.

"W-wait..." Kain muttered. He could feel his eyelids getting heavy – it was getting harder to focus on the retreating figure in the blinding glimmer of the shattered crystal raining down around him. "I don't understand…"

The dragoon paused for a moment. But instead of turning back, he leapt forward, disappearing in a swell of shimmering white light. Kain closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by the slow, meticulous rhythm of his fading heartbeat humming in his ears. As the darkness devoured him, he swore he could feel a warm rush of air kiss his skin – it smelled salty and crisp at the same time, like the eastern coast of Baron where the forest met the sea.

"You, too, will suffer intense pain... Just as my son did before... Just as he will again when the Blue Planet is once more veiled by an invader's eclipse…"

 _There's that voice again…the one that lured me to the shrine…_

"The end of your exile comes now. Go forth, and face your final trial… I will gift you the last of my strength so that you may retain your corporeal form. I beg of you…please save him!"

Kain felt a shockwave of scalding fever surge through his form, the comforting, familiar darkness blown away by a shroud of blinding light. He bolted upright, his eyes snapping open to greet the glaring blue sky as a rush of stale air discharged from his lungs.

He was back on the summit of Mount Ordeals, deposited in an exposed heap of limbs in the shadows of the lifeless shrine behind him. His tattered tent stood a few feet away, visibly undisturbed, along with the rest of his minimal possessions. The lance he had been carrying, however, was nowhere to be seen, along with his armor. Blinking, he raised his hands to his face, turning them over and raising them to the sun several times before he was convinced that they were no longer transparent.

He then reached down, pushing his palm to his bare torso and gingerly pressing against the new, pink flesh stretched over his abs where what seemed like only moments ago, he had been torn asunder. A mild ache warned him from probing any further, but as far as he could tell, he was back in one piece.

He let out a shaking sigh as he lowered his head, massaging his temples with his fingertips. He couldn't grasp hold of any of his thoughts – his memory of what had happened after he had stepped into the shrine was already beginning to fade. A sense of urgency churning deep within compelled him to unsteadily rise to his full height, a timely blast of chilled mountain air reminding him of just how very naked he now was.

 _I've got to get out of here. I've got to find that dragoon…but where would he have gone?_

He paused before ducking into his tent to see what he could salvage to make himself decent. In the far northern skies, he could see what looked like a black speck tearing across the horizon toward the Adamant Isles – if he were a betting man; he would have put money on it being an airship full of new Red Wing hopefuls being escorted to their trial of knighthood. Kain could remember Cecil's trial like it was yesterday – Cecil had been so nervous that he had spent the entire night prior to his departure alternating between pacing in Kain's chamber and throwing up the spirits Kain gave him in an attempt to calm him down. Kain had already been rising in the ranks of the Dragoons, and Cecil was novice in the dark blade, which their king had specifically asked him to train under in preparation for his trial to join the most elite military force in Baron – maybe even in the entire world.

* * *

 _Baron, 21 years prior_

"What if I'm not able to find the Knight's Emblem, Kain? Do you think they'll leave me behind to rot?"

"Not likely, being you are the king's favorite and all," Kain said dryly, raising an eyebrow. "Honestly, what has gotten into you? This sudden lack of confidence is rather untimely, don't you think?"

"Ah, you just don't understand," Cecil sighed. "You were destined to become a great dragoon – it's practically encrypted in your DNA. You're already living your dream…and all of a sudden, the king wants _me_ to become a dark knight – and when his word is law, what else can I do but accept? What if I'm not as adept as he thinks…and I fail?"

"So what?" Kain blinked. "Since when is Cecil Harvey afraid of _failure_?"

Cecil paused, his haunting blue eyes darkening even in the light of the fire Kain had lit for them. Despite the turn of the summer season, nights in Baron were still cold, and the dragoons' barracks in the eastern tower were particularly drafty. Kain didn't understand why Cecil didn't see it to fret in his private quarters, where he would have at least been more comfortable while he emptied the contents of his stomach.

"It's not the failure I fear…"

"Then what is it?"

"…Disappointment, I think. With everything His Highness has done for me…saving me from a life on the streets and pouring all of his ambition and time into me…how would it look to the court if I were to be the one that demonstrated his hopes were misplaced?"

Kain frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "The king has done much for you Cecil; that much is true. But that doesn't mean your life is an extension of his – you're still a sovereign soul. If you don't want to become a dark knight, you should just tell him, before it's too late. He'll find someone else to master the dark blade, and serve whatever purpose it has of Baron."

"But he already asked _you_ …"

"…And I rejected him."

"So how could I do the same?"

"Easily, if you would just listen to your own heart."

"And what of Rosa? Her mother has enough dislike of me – becoming a dark knight is the minimum effort I'll have to exude if I have any hope of her approving our courtship someday."

"Rosa doesn't care what you are," Kain shook his head, his lips involuntarily pressing into a tight line. "If you wait for her mother's approval before actually doing anything about your feelings for her, you'll both be long dead in the ground. But that's another subject for us to rehash on another day – preferably one where we have _much_ stronger drink at our disposal. What are you going to do about _tomorrow_?"

* * *

 _And to this very day, I'm sure it's still hard for you to put yourself before anyone else,_ Kain thought, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear that the wind had blown into his eyes. _I think that's what I always admired most about you…but it also infuriated me to no end. You went on to become the youngest officer in Red Wings history. You mastered the dark blade, secured your position as His Highness' right-hand man, and even though you kept Rosa at arm's length, she never had eyes for anyone else but you._

 _And then on a nondescript summer day seventeen years ago, you threw it all away to save a little stranger in Mist. And neither you nor I realized that the next time we saw each other, it would be as adversaries…_

To the west, he could see the village of Mysidia, tucked away on the dragon-shaped seascape that had given birth to the Lunar Whale. The night he, Cecil, Rosa, Rydia and Edge had flown to the moon and to what they had all anticipated was certain death – Cecil had forgiven him, and Kain had pledged that no matter what happened the rest of their days, be they many or few, the two of them would face it together.

 _And that was the last promise I made – and broke – for seventeen very long years._

Kain's mind played back the crystal-tinged fragments of the intense pain and sorrow that had enveloped him in the shrine. He hardly recognized the frustrated, animalistic scream that ricocheted in the heavens as his own when the dragoon's enigmatic sneer flashed before him once again.

 _"It's not obvious yet? I am...you! I am what you really feel, deep down in your heart! And thanks to your eagerness to step aside, I can finally go forth into the world that rejected you and make all of our beautiful dreams come true…"_

 _Of course._ Kain clenched his jaw, closing his eyes. _I know exactly what his dream is...it's the nightmare that has haunted me every night since the day we came home from the moon – the nightmare for which I came to this forsaken place so that I could prevent it from ever occurring. No matter how high the price I had to pay for my desertion of Baron, it was all so that the only two people I've ever loved could continue living in the peace for which we fought so desperately. But still, it seems there is yet more I owe…_

 _That dragoon…_

 _No, the other me…he's going to kill Cecil. And Cecil won't realize he is in danger until it's far too late._

Kain crossed his arms over his chest. Mysidia would be his only possible gateway to Baron – he would have to convince the Elder to let him take the Devil's Road, if it was still in commission. Time was of the essence – he had no way of possibly knowing where the dragoon was at that very moment, or if he had even yet left Mount Ordeals – but he didn't want to stick around to find out. He still wasn't exactly sure how he survived his assault, but he knew that in his current state, he would not make it through a second round if he were to encounter the dragoon again. He had no weapons, no armor, no allies, and barely enough life in him to put up a fight.

Kain pushed back the flap of his tent, crawling inside and hurriedly digging for the disguise he would sometimes don when he absolutely could not avoid going into town for supplies: A nearly worn-through cotton tunic he had retrieved from the body of a hunter who had met an untimely end in the forests years ago, the breeches he had worn when he first came to Mount Ordeals – luckily, he had remained disciplined enough in his training to still fit into them – although now they were baggier, and he had to keep them aloft on his hips with a utility belt he had once found abandoned at the base of the mountain. A tattered cloak he used as a blanket and well-worn boots (another item borrowed from the unfortunate hunter) completed his ensemble – he hastily tied his hair into a knotted ponytail and pulled the hood over his head before slipping out of the tent.

 _I'll need to find a weapon_ , he thought, pulling the cloak together around his body as he approached the bridge that would take him across the summit and to the worn mountain path that would lead him back to the outside world. _And it will be nightfall soon enough – I may need to hide in the woods until I gain my bearings. I can't risk the dragoon finding me here on the mountain – not until I've returned to full strength._

 _The next time we meet, I_ ** _will_** _end him – even if it means I have to die too. To have unleashed such abhorrent darkness into this world…if my life itself is the final price for keeping Cecil and Rosa safe, I will gladly pay it a hundred times over…_

 _I just pray I'm already not too late…_

* * *

 _Baron, current day_

The dragoon glared up at Kain's hand warily, still refusing to concede. He clutched at the twin puncture wounds on his stomach, unending blood pooling between his fingers and knuckles in translucent crimson ribbons. "W-why...? _Why?_ How could you possibly want to temper such chaos in your heart once more…?"

Kain shook his head. "I realize now that I've been held back all this time by the past. I thought those days had to be buried for good... But it turns out that solved little. My past is as much a part of me as any part of my body. The happiness, the sadness..." He took a deep breath. "And all the hatred..."

The dragoon clenched his eyes shut, writhing in agony as little blue veins began to pop in his temple, his mouth twisting with distain. "Stop... _no_!"

"I'm not here to deny your right to exist," Kain said softly. "You're not going to die…"

"Wha...what?"

"…You're a part of me, too. Without a past, I have no path that I can walk upon toward a future. Without hatred, I wouldn't appreciate the miracle of unconditional love. And without darkness, light cannot shine."

Pulling Ceodore's unconscious body into her lap, Rosa lowered her head and let out a breathless sob. The light Ceodore had summoned that had healed Kain had also cured her curse of silence his dark self had cast upon her – but none of the healing spells she tried to use on him had any effect. She could feel his breathing getting shallower by the minute as he sunk into himself…how could the gods be so terrible as to take him away again after they had finally found each other?

The dragoon sluggishly tilted his head toward her, the corner of his mouth tugging into the slightest of smiles. Startled, she stared down at him, her hands instinctively clutching Ceodore closer to her breast. He lifted his hand, his weakening body trembling with the effort, and let it silently fall against Kain's outstretched palm as his obsidian eyes met hers.

"Ro...sa…!"

The dragoon closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his blood-streaked lips as his body dissolved into a turbulent whirlwind of dancing particles of violet and ruby light. Left behind, sparkling faintly on the floor in his place, were the stolen water, wind and fire crystals.

Ceodore's eyes suddenly fluttered open, and he glanced up at his mother confusedly as one of her tears slid down her chin and splashed onto his forehead. He had heard everything as he had been drifting in blissful, numb oblivion – and then suddenly, it had been like someone throwing open curtains to reveal the blinding morning sun in his bedroom. The peaceful darkness had shattered beneath his feet, dropping him cruelly back into the real world.

 _That dragoon…he was the hatred in Kain's heart…?_

When she felt Ceodore stir, Rosa looked down at him, her heart nearly bursting with joy as she let out a whimper of relief. The light particles before them gathered into the fluid shape of a ribbon, rushing toward Kain and weaving around his torso, arms and neck in an infinite spinning loop of dazzling light – like hundreds of miniature shooting stars hurling through his body's orbit. A gentle voice called to them from above – but when Ceodore tilted his head, he couldn't see anyone there.

 _"Yes...this is justice..."_

"That voice!" Kain gasped. "I heard it on Mount Ordeals in the crystal shrine…"

 _I've never been on Mount Ordeals…but I recognize that voice from somewhere…_ Ceodore could feel his own eyes watering now, but he couldn't understand why. _It's so sad…a lifetime's worth of despair and regret is engraved in that person's heart…I wonder why?_

 _"Please...my sons..."_

Kain, Ceodore, Rosa, Cid and Edward let out a simultaneous cry of surprise as the room flooded with blinding light once again. Ceodore and Rosa clung to each other, clenching their eyes shut and pressing their heads together. Cid and Edward covered their eyes, the radiance seeming to even burn through their fingers. The light from the fallen dragoon that had wrapped itself around Kain was scorched to nothingness, and he could feel himself being lifted into the air, the soft caress of angel wings trailing over his feverish skin.

And as quickly as the light had come, it had just as suddenly vanished. Kain opened his eyes, blinking away the pale pink and white spots that clouded his vision – it was as if he had been staring at the sun. The first thing he noticed as his vision came back into focus was that he was still grasping the lance that had mysteriously appeared before him when Ceodore had called upon his powers. The more startling observation, however, was that his clothes had completely transformed from shabby rags into magnificent pearl and emerald plated armor, inlaid with rainbow-flecked dragon scales that shined as majestically as the stars in the night sky. A pair of sea foam green dragon's wings framed the mantle hanging over his shoulder blades, an ivory and violet cape spilling forth in a luxurious pool of silk on the floor. A moonstone-flecked headband mounted with delicate wyvern wings was wrapped behind his ears, the curling earpieces studded in dripping pearls. His corn silk hair was pulled up in a ponytail, a waist-length loose tendril falling over the right side of his face.

"What the...?" Kain trailed off, bewildered. As he flexed his fingers in his new gauntlets, the holy lance disappeared in a shower of emerald light and reappeared in a holster on his back.

Ceodore climbed to his feet, grinding his eyes with his fists as he gawked at Kain. "That outfit..."

"It's like...a paladin," Edward breathed. "He's immersed in the very same holy light that Cecil wields and that Ceodore summoned just now…"

 _Holy…light…?_ Ceodore lowered his eyes, his heart racing. _That mysterious light that's been protecting me…it's the same as my father's…?_

"Kain!" Rosa cried, shattering his reverie. Ceodore wordlessly offered her his hand, and she used it to pull herself up, nearly tripping on her gown as she stumbled forward and closed the remainder of distance between them by throwing herself into his arms. He caught her easily, pulling her to his chest, his fingers curling into her hair and shoulder blades.

"Rosa…" Kain whispered, closing his eyes as she embraced him so tightly that it ached even through his armor. But he didn't care how much it hurt – he would never, ever pull away, even if she crushed his bones to dust. "…Thank you for believing in me…for knowing who the real me was, even when I no longer knew for myself."

"I always knew you would come back to us," Rosa mumbled into his chest. "I never stopped praying…"

"Yeah, you sure kept us waiting, kid…" Cid sniffled, tugging his goggles over his eyes. That was a sure sign that he was tearing up himself. "After all this time! You're finally back!"

Kain patted Rosa's back, and they pulled apart, Rosa wiping away her tears with her sleeve. Kain looked up at Cid and Edward, smiling crookedly. "Yes, I am here before you once again! Sorry for the dramatic entrance…it's not really what I pictured for my homecoming."

Edward stifled a laugh, and Ceodore stepped up to Kain, lowering his head.

"Why did you keep your identity a secret from me this entire time…? Had I known who you were, I could have done something to help…" He finally managed to lift his eyes to Kain's. "Or did you really not trust me after all?"

"Ceodore…" Kain sighed, resting his hands on his shoulders. "It was never my intention to lie to you. I didn't know what was going to happen when I was finally able to catch up to my other self – during our first battle; I was brought to the brink of death. If I were to die or lose my memory of our time together, I wanted it to have as little impact on you as possible. You're strong – far stronger than you believe – but you're also the son of my dearest friends. If anything I did resulted in you getting hurt…I would never be able to face Cecil and Rosa – or myself – again. I hope you can understand, even if you can't forgive my unintended deception."

Ceodore looked away, and Rosa bit her lip, approaching them.

"Ceodore…it was nothing short of a miracle that you and Kain found each other. And having witnessed what I've seen here today…" in each of her hands, she first took Kain's, and then Ceodore's, "…It seems as if the bond you two share created another miracle of your own. Ceodore…the light in your heart emanated with Kain's, giving him the strength to return to his true form. And subsequently, Kain's awakening brought you back to us. You understand what I'm trying to say, right?"

Ceodore raised his eyebrow, glancing back up at Kain. "So, you're not going to leave anymore, right? Because if you make my mother cry again…I really won't forgive you."

"I'm not going anywhere," Kain nodded. "I'm done with running away." He turned to Rosa and Edward, guilt flooding his features. "I haven't inherited _his_ memories from while we were apart, so I don't know everything that happened before Ceodore and I arrived at Damcyan…but know that I claim all responsibility, and I intend to face the consequences when all of this is over."

"Kain…" Edward shook his head. "I know that we've never really become acquainted, but I feel like I know you well enough just from all the stories Cecil and Rosa have shared with me over the years – Rydia, too. And the Kain standing before me now is much more in alignment in what I've come to learn from them versus the Kain that stormed Damcyan. I'm fairly confident the two of us can find reconciliation."

"Thank you…" Kain bowed deeply, his ponytail sliding over his shoulder. "…I understand now why Cecil was drawn to befriend you during the war…a kind soul like yours must have been a panacea for him in those dark days." Edward blushed, and Cid cleared his throat, his hands on his hips.

"I feel like I'm the one who always interrupts these cheesy, gooey moments, but…speaking of Cecil, does anyone else find it strange that we've effectively raised hell right outside his throne room, but no one in the entire castle has come to check up on us?"

"You're right – now's not the time to catch up," Kain frowned. "We have to figure out why the other Kain and Cecil seemingly shared a goal to gather the crystals." He bent down, scooping up the water, wind and fire crystals that had been left behind by his other self and placing them in Rosa's arms. "These will be safest with you…if something happens, use Teleport to get far away from here, all right?"

Rosa pursed her lips. "I'm done running away too, Kain." But even as she said it, she took the crystals, cradling them in her arms with all the attention and delicacy of a newborn child. The five of them turned toward each other, Rosa casting Curaja over the party to ensure they would face whatever was next with full strength.

 _But why do I have the feeling that something even more terrifying than I can imagine is waiting for us…?_ She shuddered, clutching the crystals tighter against her chest as Kain and Ceodore pulled open the throne room doors. _Cecil…a perpetual dread has settled in my heart where I was once able to sense your light…please, you have to still be alive!_

The throne room was dimly lit. Only a few standing candelabras had been given life, while the curtains that lined the incredible floor-length windows that afforded a view as far as the Misty Valley on a clear day remained tightly drawn shut, even though the day had been blessed with abundant sunlight. As far of the rest of the chamber was concerned, everything appeared to be in its normal place – the exception being a vase of strange flowers that had been tucked in the corner of the room, and the young woman who was perched on the arm of Cecil's throne, turquoise hair spiraling down her bare shoulders in wild waves, her bare feet crossed primly at the ankles beneath a gossamer white gown. Her face could best be described as the personification of an arctic winter night – her skin was unmarked, unblemished, and as white as snow – a heart-shaped face providing the frame for thin, pale pink lips and ample amber eyes that flashed before them like headlamps. Her upturned nose twitched ever so slightly as she took in the new arrivals, the only sign of emotion or life on her otherwise blank face.

Sitting next to her in the throne was Cecil, his leg crossed over his knee. He smile widened as the group approached, although he didn't bother to get up to meet them. He reached up behind him as if to stretch, gathering his hair in his hands and twisting until it fell over his left shoulder in silky layered waves. Titling his head slightly, his ethereal face got caught the candlelight, sending a shiver down Rosa's spine. She could see nothing reflected back at her when she gazed into his eyes – the miniscule amount of light had been absorbed like a black hole, his pupils so enlarged that she couldn't even see a hint of blue.

Ceodore stared up at his father worriedly, wondering why the room felt like it was near one-hundred degrees when the rest of the castle had been absolutely freezing and lifeless. Was he sick? Physically, he appeared to be well…he didn't _seem_ any different than the morning Ceodore had left him…

…Yet undeniably, there was something very strange about him – he wondered if it was because his enthusiastic – almost maddeningly so – smile didn't reach his eyes…he was suddenly very disturbed to realize that he was reminded of the dark dragoon.

"Welcome back," Cecil declared, finally rising to his feet. He took a long look at each of them, tapping his finger to his chin as he slowly strode down the line. Ceodore felt his heart skip a beat when his father's eyes finally landed on him – he wondered if he would say anything about the Red Wings trial, or make a comment about him seeming different now that he was a knight…

But instead, Cecil's gaze moved over to Rosa, and then eventually everyone else, not speaking again until he had finished inspecting them. "I'm glad to see you all. Ceodore, Rosa, Cid, Edward…" He shook his head as if he simply could not believe what was saying next, crossing his arms over his chest. "…and most of all, Kain Highwind!"

 _He recognizes me, this time,_ Kain thought to himself. _Curious…_

Rosa broke rank, rushing up the stairs to the throne and grabbing Cecil's hand in her own, the other cradling the crystals. "Cecil! I'm so glad you're alright…" She glanced over his shoulder at the mysterious girl, who hadn't moved an inch. "…Who is she?"

Cecil turned his head to look at the mysterious girl, but didn't say anything. Kain noticed that when Rosa had taken his hands that he hadn't reciprocated – she was the only one holding on. In fact, he had been staring through Rosa while she was talking as if she were nothing more than an illusion.

Ceodore took a step forward, raising his head. "Father…I've returned from my trial…something terrible happened that you should know about…"

But Cecil wasn't paying attention to Ceodore – his eyes had fallen back to Kain, who was meeting his stare with one of his own. Cecil pulled away from Rosa's grasp, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That light…Kain, have you finally done it?"

"Have I finally done what?" Kain asked crisply, taking a step closer to the throne. Rosa bit her lip, inching away slowly after noticing the mysterious girl had hungrily rested her eyes on her – or rather, what it was she was holding. Cecil chuckled, but his laugh was hollow and thin – it sounded like it had come out of someone else, like a ventriloquists' dummy.

"Finally managed to achieve your dream of riding my coattails, _of course_. I see you couldn't quite make it as a Paladin, but I suppose a Holy Dragoon is the next best thing, right? And it only took you seventeen years!"


	26. Act Twenty-Six: The Lunarians' Tale

Act Twenty-Six: The Lunarians' Tale | The Sorcerer's Prayer

 _Baron, the morning of the moon's return_

That morning, for the first time in many years – maybe even since Ceodore had been born – Cecil and Rosa did not rise for the day together.

When the first stirrings of sunlight danced over her eyes, Rosa rolled over, a sleepy moan escaping her lips as she wrapped her arm around Cecil's taunt torso and curled her body deeper against his, entwining their bare legs. She could hear the steady rush of his beating heart through his arm, and when she opened one eye, she spied the alabaster curve of his neck exposed beneath the spill of his silver hair, sorely tempted to press her lips to the bend just below his jaw and revel in the flutter of his pulse. A trail of delicate red marks that ran down to his collarbone, hidden beneath the rest of his hair, gave witness to her resistance failing her spectacularly the night before. She felt a warm ache in her hips as she remembered the way the light of the full moon – and nothing else – had illuminated their bodies with a depraved luster as they had fallen into bed.

But the moonlight's enchantment had been broken with the inevitable rising of the sun – there was much to prepare for today. Ceodore had only been gone one short night, and he was expected home mid-morning. Cecil had been nothing but adamant that their son would come home a knight, but even a king's work did not stall for such a day, which meant the majority of the celebration planning had fallen to her shoulders. She didn't mind it, but she could already feel herself breaking out in a sweat at the last-minute errands she would have to coordinate, including the unenviable task of fetching her mother from town and confessing the news of Ceodore's rather sudden decision to recruit.

Rosa and her mother had never agreed on much, including her own decision to fight in the war seventeen years prior and to marry what Rosa's mother felt (and probably _still_ felt, if you asked her after a bottle of Bacchus Wine) was the inferior of the two men clamoring for her affections as a youth – but their relationship had taken a welcome turn for the better when Ceodore had been born. Once Rosa had become a mother herself, she had started to understand Joanna Farrell's constant state of worry and what the stress of having your heart exposed on the outside of your body in the form of a child did to one's psyche. Both of them fiercely loved Ceodore and wanted him to live a life free of strife – or at least as much as one could that was the sole heir to the most powerful kingdom in the world.

So, it could go without saying that her mother would be as displeased about Ceodore's hasty decision as she had been, and she was bound to get a shrieking earful about it. But at least Rosa had had twenty-four hours to somewhat come to terms with her family's new reality – not that that meant she still wasn't shaking with the fear of every possible thing that could go wrong. By the time darkness had fallen in Baron the night before, she was a tempest of nerves and despair – no wonder it had been so appealing an idea to surrender to Cecil's happiness and give her body a few precious hours to forget.

"Cecil," she whispered, sitting up and gently shaking his shoulder. "Time to wake up."

He parted his lips, an inaudible groan escaping as he pressed his fingers to his forehead, slowly raking them up through his hair.

"…What time is it?"

"It's later than usual, I'm afraid," Rosa frowned. "There won't be much time to get ready if we don't hurry – and I'm sure the baths are already getting cold."

He finally rolled over and rose to face her, and she felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine as his eyes fell to hers: Luminous, and the same cerulean blue as their planet wrapped in moonlight that Rosa had observed hidden away on the Lunar Whale. She could see her flushed, kiss-swollen lips curling into a smile in the reflection of his irises. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, curling his fingers into her hair as he lifted her mouth to his, his other hand trailing over the curving silhouette of her breast.

"Cecil…" Rosa mumbled into his mouth, the urgent insistence of his lips lulling her eyes shut.

 _Ah, if time could only stop now…I would be so happy._

After a few moments, he pulled away, offering a small smile. Rosa tilted her head, her fingers aimlessly tracing the shallow line of muscle that trailed just below his navel.

"You go on ahead, Rosa – I'll go in after you. My head feels as if its spinning."

"Oh," Rosa blinked, squeezing his hip. The blissful afterglow of the morning shattered, and she was promptly deposited back into reality – a slightly drafty bedchamber in Baron where _technically_ , their son could walk in at any given moment – they were running really late, now. "Everything OK?"

"Yeah, I think so," Cecil looked over his shoulder to the window, and Rosa saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. "I just had the strangest dream…I'll tell you about it later."

"Sounds good," Rosa smiled, kissing him on the cheek before slipping out of bed. He turned away from the window, his breath catching in his throat as he watched her push up on her toes to reach for her cerise satin dressing gown, her shoulder blades jutting with effort as she shrugged her arm into one sleeve, and then the next. The gauzy skirt of the robe fell over her backside like a curtain at the end of a play, and she reached under her collar, tugging out the layers of her hair that had spilled from the pile of curls she had kept plaited in a messy topknot yesterday.

Just as she was about to cross the suite to the chamber across the hall that held the baths, Cecil shook himself from his trance, the sheets sliding from his lap as he started to get up, his voice shaking. "Rosa…"

She turned slightly, smiling as she wrapped the robe across her chest, not bothering with the laces for the short trip. She hadn't heard the distress in his tone over the list of chores she was mentally cataloging.

"Keep resting, dear. I've just remembered we'll have to fetch your armor as well, so I'll make this quick. It should be waxed and buffed up and ready to go."

"…Alright. Thanks."

The door slammed shut behind her. Cecil sat back down at the edge of the bed, propping his elbows on his knees and cradling his head, his hair tumbling over his shoulders as he hunched over. A sharp throb tore across his temple, the pain taking his breath away while his stomach contracted involuntarily.

 _She looked as if she were about to sprout wings and vanish…_

* * *

When Rosa returned, she found Cecil kneeling on their bed, dressed in a black cotton shirt and matching leggings, his arms folded on the ledge of the picture window that held him aloft. He was gazing outside, the gossamer white curtains shoved aside as to not impede his view. Rosa had been about to announce that the bath was free, but hesitated when she realized he had not heard her come in – he never turned to acknowledge her. As she came closer, she spied what had instead caught his undivided attention – last night's full moon was still hanging high in the morning sky, like a newly-polished pearl unearthed from the depths of the starry seas of outer space.

Cecil's eyes were distant and searching – his pupils shrunken pinholes and his lavender pink-lined lids heavy with grief and exhaustion. He had taken a total one-eighty from his ardor of yesterday – he had been so excited to see Ceodore off on his trial and have his son finally take an interest in _something_ that he had been practically walking on air the entire day, and more so eager to get Rosa to come around and share in his enthusiasm when they were reunited that night.

 _The first true full moon of the summer,_ Rosa thought, combing her fingers through her wet hair as she came closer, her bare feet padding silently across the freezing-cold stone floors. _Another year has gone by already. Ever since Cecil was dispatched to steal the Crystal of Water seventeen years ago, the passing of our lives became denoted in summers – that terrible night was when the war begun for us._ She had approached his bedside that night, just the same as she was doing now – back then, it had been _his_ room, and not _theirs_ …and he would try once again to push her out of his life forevermore, heartbroken that the man she loved had now become a murderer in the king's name.

She could envision the ghost of her past self begging Cecil to refrain from his next mission – a naïve nineteen-year-old woman who had no idea that life as she knew it would be destroyed in the twelve hours that followed. Her dark knight had ignored her pleas, hypnotized by the light of the twin moons.

 _Cecil…your lunar birthright was calling to you even back then, wasn't it? My heart still aches for you at just the thought of the confusion you must have felt deep within – being by your side has taught me that even time does not heal every torment…_

She climbed onto the bed behind him, pressing her bare skin to his back as she wrapped her arms around his waist and perched her chin on his shoulder.

"Looking for _him_ again?"

He nodded, his stare not leaving the moon. Rosa leaned in closer, her breath tickling his ear. He was a million miles away – she could feel the warmth of his body beneath hers, and the shallow cadence of his breath contacting in his chest, but his heart had been cast into the far-reaches of the universe.

"I wonder how he is faring."

 _We never say it…your brother's name. Neither his given name, or his true name…_

Finally, Cecil lowered his gaze, reaching down and placing a hand over hers. "So do I."

 _Time for a change of subject, Rosa thought,_ her stomach churning. Having been alone in the bath with her thoughts, her mind had gone back to Ceodore's whereabouts and whether or not he had survived his trial. She decided now was a good time to distract Cecil with further selfish placation so that at least one of them was somewhat functioning by the time the Red Wings came home.

"Do you think Ceodore is safe?"

Cecil turned to face her, and she slunk off his back, her knees sinking into the mattress. The light had begun returning to his eyes, igniting the sapphire undertones that stopped strangers in their tracks; had made her insides fill with butterflies since the very first time they swept over her; had been gifted to their only precious child – finally, he was coming back to her, drifting back to the orbit of their Blue Planet.

His lips curled into a pained smile. "I wouldn't be concerned. He has Biggs and Wedge with him."

"But still..." Rosa began, and he pressed a finger to her lips, shaking his head.

"Listen, Rosa. You need not worry for Ceodore. I know this all seems very sudden and frightening…like we went to sleep with the son we knew but then awoke the next day with another. To us, he's still a child, but the reality is, he's a young man – you and I were his age when we also started to take charge of our lives and quietly resisted our elders' wishes, remember? But you've raised him well; you've blessed him with the compassion, wisdom and courage he is going to need to thrive both within and outside Baron's borders. And that's why I'm not worried – it's because _you_ are his mother that I know Ceodore understands."

Rosa stared at him blankly, mumbling against his finger. Her robe slid down her arms and half-way down her back as she shifted her weight. "Understands what?"

He felt another spasm ricochet in his head – this one far more powerful than before – and had to blink away the stars that had exploded in his vision. Rosa's voice was disjointed and sounded like she was calling to him from underwater – he had a terrifying vision of the floor suddenly opening beneath her, obsidian, nightshade-tipped claws tearing at her white flesh and dragging her into a smoldering hell.

Cecil suddenly pulled her into him, his hands sliding down her uncovered back as he closed his eyes, digging his fingers so tightly into her that she could feel the knots of stress that had taken residence in her muscles depressing under his grip; it was a strange mix of relief and yet more pain. She let herself melt beneath his hands, resting her head against his chest and sinking into him as she felt his heart undulate powerfully against the hollow of her cheek. He pressed his mouth to her hair, willing the sugary-sweet lemon scent of her bathwater to banish the last remains of the painful nightmare that had taken him as he had fallen asleep last night. He could still hear the ringing of steel echo in his ears when his blade, Ragnarok, had plunged into the dark-armored chest of his adversary, a spray of crimson blood drenching his face as he hungrily watched the light drain from hauntingly familiar violet eyes.

Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear: "…That destiny is something you create for yourself."

* * *

 _Agart_

The scholar stifled a yawn as she flipped the page in her notebook, her hand blindly feeling for the coffee she had just brewed in the tiny kitchen below the observatory. It was nearly the end of her shift – just one more hour, and she was free to crawl into one of the cots Cory would lay out for his interns in the darkest corner of house. He had even hung up blackout curtains, which turned out to be a fabulous investment in terms of his interns not quitting nearly as often as they used to.

She scribbled the date and the time – an ungodly hour, in her opinion, after being up all night – and took a sip of her coffee before rolling her stool back to the unwieldy telescope that was the _star_ (Cory liked making stupid puns about space…a lot) of their observatory. She made a couple adjustments to the focusing wheel and the eyepiece before settling in, her eyes trailing over the same-old familiar star patterns that had been ushered in with the summer season. She scribbled some notes in her book, adjusting the position of the scope and turning toward a new quadrant.

"Oh _my_!"

She suddenly jumped up, screaming with abandon so that her voice would carry down to the first floor.

"Cory, sir! You have to see this!"

There came pounding footsteps, and Cory materialized at the top of the stairs, a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth. "What's all this racket for?"

"Th-the moon, sir!" the scholar blinked. "…Just take a look for yourself!"

"What!?" Cory bit off a piece of the toast and tossed the rest on her desk, ignoring the look of disgust she gave him. He slid down onto the stool, hunching over the eyepiece and chewing silently. The scholar knew the moment he saw what she had, because a distinct gagging sound garbled out of his throat, and the chewing of the toast suddenly ceased. Moments later, a big lump of soggy bread traveled down Cory's throat.

It wasn't just "the" moon – the more apropos description from the scholar would have been the "moons". To reach any other conclusion from what he was seeing was superfluous – there was no doubt that a second satellite was creeping out from the mass of their planet's moon. It was smaller, but only by about half as much, from what he could estimate visually. Cory barked for the scholar to grab a collection of notes from one of his bookshelves, rambling off a volume number that she didn't bother to double-check – he had every single page of his observations and the observations of his students over the past thirty years cataloged and memorized in a complex library he kept in the observatory portion of the house. She fled to the bookshelf, pushing up on her toes to reach the volume in question, and ran back to his side, her glasses askew.

"Go to page ninety-eight," Cory said, his eye still glued to the scope. As he had been observing, he had swiped her notebook that had fallen to the floor, his fingers flying over the page as he sketched out his observations without ever looking down. She turned the pages until she reached ninety-eight, and found that it was simply a large sketch of another moon. Underneath were a date and a time – only a week and seventeen years off from today's date, coincidentally – and in chicken-scratch handwriting – definitely not Cory's meticulous scrawl – was the label "Red Moon".

"What do you think when you compare these?" Cory asked, pulling away from the scope and holding out the notebook. The scholar leaned in, not able to mask the impressed look on her face as she took in Cory's rushed, but detailed sketch. Her eyes flicked back over to the notebook she was holding in her hand, and frowned.

"Well…for starters, the new moon has a lot fewer craters. That's the most obvious difference. But if I look at the notes about scale here for the Red Moon…" she trailed off, her eyes scanning some numbers scribbled, almost like an afterthought, at the corner of the page. "…It seems as if the Red Moon was also dramatically smaller. Unless the new moon is closer to us in orbit and that's why it seems so large…?" She closed the notebook, shrugging. She was going to need more coffee if she was expected to do any further number crunching after being up for twelve hours.

"So to answer your question, Sir Cory, my initial thought is that these are two different celestial bodies. The Red Moon left our orbit nearly seventeen years ago, right? I don't think it is back – it's unheard of for a satellite object like that evolve so drastically in such a small amount of time." To her surprise, he nodded thoughtfully, closing the book in his hands as well.

"I agree with you one-hundred percent," Cory frowned, chewing on the end of the pen. "So my next question is…what is this moon, if the Red Moon is still unaccounted for?"

* * *

The paladin's footsteps clicked inauspiciously against the immaculate crystal tiles, an azure and ivory cape sweeping the floor in his wake. His lithe physique was reflected one-hundred fold throughout the hallowed hall – on the hand-cut crystal chandeliers that crawled across the ceiling like the sprawling branches of the tree of life, each stem dripping in shimmering icicles that gave the impression of rain suspended in mid-air; the two-way mirrored walls, which revealed the moonscape and the darkness of the sky outside, punctuated with chasms of starlight; and the sculpted diamond-laced pillars that ran the lengths of the palace halls.

Cecil paused before the glowing crystal dais, his hand hovering over the white-gold hilt of his sword. His mouth was set in a thin line, his eyes narrowing and silver-threaded brows lowered as he took in the towering stance of the man blocking his way. The muscles in his forearm contracted as his fingers gripped the blade…

"Cecil!" Golbez was standing between two pillars, the prisms behind him swathed in a sea of black that not even Cecil's sacred light could pierce. His voice echoed maddeningly inside his helmet, and he knew the confines of the ebony-stained adamant made his shout of surprise sound much more threatening than was his intention. Even so, he hesitated to remove it – Cecil's cerulean glare was drilling daggers into him, and he was terrified at what would happen if even an inch of his flesh were to be exposed to his brother's intensifying rage. He might catch holy hell and spontaneously combust right then and there in the middle of the crystal palace.

 _It's unbelievable, how much he looks and moves like Cecilia… It's as if she's been reborn._

Golbez took a step forward, raising his black-gloved hands high in the air in surrender. Suddenly, the weight of his armor felt unbearably cumbersome, like the gravity levels of the palace had been sent into overdrive – just those few actions had him reeling. _The darkness…it has become asphyxiating. It won't be long now…_

 _But I just need a little more time…!_

Cecil snarled in reply, dashing forward to close the distance between them. His crystal blade was a prism of rainbow light as it caught the sheen of the chandeliers above, smashing into Golbez's stomach before he could teleport away. The strike knocked the breath out of him even with as much of the impact his armor had absorbed, and he fell to one knee, biting his tongue to keep from crying out. Cecil exhaled sharply, his silver hair falling in his eyes as he slammed his foot into Golbez's chest, knocking him onto his back and planting his moonstone-plated boot square against his throat.

"Wait! Cecil, stop!" Golbez rasped. "There's something you have to know…then you can do whatever you feel needs done!"

Cecil laughed bitterly, licking the top row of his teeth as he applied more pressure with his foot, bending down to take hold of one of the massive horns curling from Golbez's helmet.

"Nothing you can ever say or do will bring them back!" Cecil cried, and Golbez heard the sickening crunch of his larynx being crushed. "Tellah…Anna…His Majesty…Edge's parents…Mother and Father too!" He gave one last fierce pull, and Golbez's helmet broke free from its clasps, unmasking him as Cecil tossed it to the side. He was staring down at him wild-eyed, the azure rising sun emblem on his breastplate heaving with each name he spat.

"Our parents… I didn't…" Golbez wheezed, lifting his gaze. "…I couldn't…"

"You were the only one that could have saved them!" Cecil screamed, raising his blade above his head. There was an explosion of starlight, and Golbez felt something heavy plunge into his breast, probing all the way down to his spine. Cecil's face flickered above him frenziedly – his vision was short-circuiting, like one of those mechanical abominations he had once held sway over in the Tower of Babil. He heard a wet sucking sound, and then came the rush of heat scorching his lungs.

The last thing he saw was Cecil's face hovering above his own, his pale pink mouth and snowy complexion stained with a spray of blood the same color as the red moon.

* * *

"Ahhhhh!"

Golbez's eyes flew open, and it took him a few moments to realize that the screams assaulting him in his pod were coming from his own lungs. He clenched his jaw shut, sliding down into the uncomfortable, but refreshingly chilly metal pit that made up his "bed" in an attempt to curb his heart from exploding out of his chest.

"…Was that…just a dream?" he whispered. His hands flew to his chest, which was no longer incased in the heavy black armor, nor was it harboring a festering stab wound – instead, he felt only bare, sweat-dampened skin as his fingers traveled down his pectorals to his abs and hips. He stopped when his hands hit a swath of fabric wrapped around his waist, his mouth twisting in confusion.

 _When did I take it off that infernal shroud? I know it was right before I went to sleep…but_ _ **when**_ _was that? How much time has passed…?_

As his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the pod, he realized he could make out his reflection in the glass lid above. Next to him was a long leather scabbard – the scarlet hilt of a sword was obvious against the silver bed. A black cloak was draped from his neck, the only other item he was wearing that could pass for clothing besides what he could now see was a knee-length kilt hanging from his waist. His moonlight-streaked dark silver hair trailed to the middle of his tanned back and chest, an esoteric juxtaposition of light and dark that you would not normally find in the Lunarian race.

Of course, he was only a half-breed…someone that neither belonged on the Lunarians' moon, nor the Blue Planet.

Staring back at him morosely from above were his father's eyes – deep violet, with flecks of scarred gray where shadows of darkness had once resided, taking the form of a queer amber glow before he had been awoken from his malice by the Lunarian sorcerer named Fusoya. Kluya, his father, had been Fusoya's younger brother – which made his savior his very own uncle _and_ one of his last living blood relatives.

Fusoya had gone to sleep with him as well – he would be somewhere in this chamber, hopefully dreaming of something far less terrifying than his nephew had. Of course, a blood-soaked nightmare was the smallest possible price Golbez could have ever paid for his transgressions – decimal dust, really. Had Cecil been standing over him at that very moment, he would have readily pressed the release for the glass shield protecting his body, and let Cecil transform the pod into a coffin. Golbez closed his eyes, recalling one of the last conversations he had had with Fusoya before he had come face-to-face with his final (for the time being) resting place.

"Do you dream, once you are in stasis?"

"Ah, yes – perhaps more powerfully so than the people of the Blue Planet. The dreams of a Lunarian are the result of the psychic impulses that have evolved with the centuries' worth of mana that flows through our veins. When Zemus was in stasis, he dreamed as well – of course, you witnessed the end-result of that when he tried to destroy your home planet. He is the extreme of all that is malevolent – the people you see sleeping all around you now are simply having innocent dreams that they are eager to live out once it is our time to awaken."

Golbez opened his eyes, his fingers brushing over the release for his pod. There was a melodic whirling noise, and the glass slid cleanly away from him, retracting into the pod's base.

 _My dream is to forever be purged of this darkness – to rid the stain in my heart that allowed Zemus to use me for his bidding. The nightmare with Cecil…is my brother telling me that I will only achieve salvation through death?_

He swung his legs over the side of the pod, his bare feet hitting the smooth, but frigid crystal tiles beneath him and grabbed the sword, swinging it over his right shoulder. Glittering faintly beneath the tiles were hundreds and hundreds of stars – the core of their sleepy moon actually consisted of several layers of dimensions that were protected by warped time and space, and each of those stars was a glass pod with a slumbering Lunarian within. Golbez and Fusoya slept on the first and highest level as the Lunarians' guardians – the unoccupied pod Golbez had taken over had been his father's.

Kluya had never gotten to use it.

Golbez supposed it was the Lunarian intuition he was supposed to have in spades that led him to where Fusoya slept – he crossed several rows of pods containing people of all ages and types – men, women, plenty androgynous enough that he couldn't tell, children, babies, people like Fusoya that seemed as ancient as the universe itself. Every single one had escaped the great cataclysm that had stolen their planet from them ages ago, resulting in their journey to find a new planet to call home.

They had found the Blue Planet, but initial investigations by the Lunarians' leaders, including Fusoya and Zemus, had determined that the people of the Blue Planet were not yet evolved enough to live alongside the Lunarians – there was too much that was different between the two races for either side to adapt, and war would surely be on the horizon if the Lunarians were perceived as an invading threat.

Zemus had wanted to take the planet for their own anyway – his stance was that if they were the more evolved people, it was their birthright. Fusoya and the majority of the Lunarians, however, had disagreed with that sentiment…

Their conflict would ignite a wretched scheme on Zemus's part that would plague the lives of countless innocent souls on the Blue Planet, the catalyst of it all a single Lunarian's audacity to fall in love with a human girl.

Golbez's feet instinctively stopped at the base of a pod that was tucked away in the dead center of the chamber. But when he peered through the glass inside, he was shocked to see that it was already empty.

"Fusoya?" Golbez asked aloud. Of course, no one answered him. He pushed the hidden emergency release for the pods that resided on the outside base and leaned over, pressing his palms to the metal bed. The red and white prayer beads he had strung around his wrists clicked against each other as he moved his hands to several positions before standing up, satisfied.

 _It's still warm...it's only been recently that he's left. But why did he wake up too…?_

* * *

Golbez felt the first fluttering tremor when he left the lunar core where his people slept. It was sudden, but subtle – it felt as if someone had tugged a rug out from beneath him so fluidly that he barely had the time to get disoriented. He could feel the contents of his head shift ever so slightly – and then came the throb of ruby light – and it was over.

"Tch," Golbez grunted, righting himself as he took a look around. He had emerged into the Lunar Subterrane – the name Fusoya had given to the maze of tunnels and valleys that were erected deep beneath moon's crust. It had been the path the Lunarians had dug out gods only knew how long ago to seclude themselves so that they could go into stasis – safe from the terrifying monsters that ended up roaming the moon's surface surrounding the Crystal Palace and the unknown behemoth that had destroyed their home planet. Fusoya had led Golbez to the moon's core when they had confronted Zemus during the war – at the time, Golbez hadn't really focused on his surroundings or the path taken – he had anticipated that one way or another he would not be making a return to the surface.

But now, when Golbez took in the dead, dusty, twisting path before him, he realized he remembered their journey a lot more than he had thought. The air was crisp, sterile, and made him feel as if ice crystals were prickling in his lungs with each breath – exactly the same as before. The corners of the caverns and ceilings of the tunnels were still draped in the same black-purple shadows a small, fearful part of him longed to shrink into. The floors were covered in a blanket of silver dust and bone fragments that settled into the veiny grooves of the ground like spider webs. He could see the outlines of five distinct sets of footprints making their approach to where he stood – surely, they belonged to his brother and his friends from when they had chased after Fusoya and himself to the depths of the moon's core, where Zemus had been waiting to destroy them.

 _Cecil and the others were the last ones to enter this horrid place,_ Golbez thought, taking care to step around the footprints. He wanted to preserve them; They were a monument to the fleeting reconciliation he and Cecil had had before Cecil went back to the Blue Planet – and he had decided to stay behind on the moon and sleep.

 _I took the coward's way out, didn't I? I could see it in Cecil's eyes…I denied him what he needed most – even if he didn't realize it at the time. Is that why he's visiting my dreams now? To finally claim the revenge that is rightfully his?_

Golbez rounded the corner of the first tunnel, plunging into a narrow corridor that took him northbound toward the carved stone steps leading to the next level of the subterrane. Even though Golbez didn't see evidence of Fusoya's prints in the dust, he still strongly suspected his uncle had come this way and had started his climb back to the surface. Fusoya didn't walk so much as glide everywhere – Golbez had never been sure if that was something all full-blooded Lunarians could do, or just Fusoya – the floating thing didn't seem to run in the family. There were a lot of questions he had had about his heritage that he had never gotten to ask – everything had happened so fast in between the time he had awoken and when he had confronted Zemus – and failed. If Cecil hadn't reached them…

Golbez shook his head, staring at his shaking, sweat-streaked hands as he walked. _I can feel something. Not just Fusoya's presence…a palpable fear. Like I can reach into the air and grasp it with my fingers._

He followed his little brother's footprints into the reaches of the subterrane, not realizing he was holding his breath until his lungs had ruptured in flame.

* * *

 _The Red Moon, 48 years prior_

The young man pressed himself up against the wall, his eyes trained on the small crowd that had gathered around the crystal dais. Their voices had carried all the way outside, so he had at least been alerted to their presence ahead of time. Sliding his bare feet across the glossy tiles, he had just nearly made it across the corridor to freedom when he heard a firm voice call out his name.

"Kluya."

Not an exclamation, and not a question – just a simple, clipped statement that was enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up.

He turned around, plastering an overcompensating grin on his face as the crowd around the dais parted. His older (much older, he was apt to point out) brother, Fusoya, descended from the dais, where he had been watching the crystal as the crowd talked around him. Kluya often caught his brother gazing upon the crystal's light – it was the only crystal they had managed to rescue when their planet fell under attack. Their comrade, Zemus, had risked his life to steal it away onto their escape ship, and it had become the unofficial symbol of hope for those of their tribe that had survived, even after the startling discovery that the moon they had created to orbit the Blue Planet had eight crystals of its own.

Fusoya nodded to Kluya, who paused in place, glancing down at his reflection in the floor. Fusoya then raised his hands toward the others, smiling genteelly.

"A moment alone with my brother, if you would."

"Fusoya, wait!" a man in the crowd exclaimed. He was tall and willowy – his skin so pale that it glowed a soft blue in the light of the crystal, his shaved head cloaked in a massive black silk hood. He took a step forward, grabbing Fusoya's arm so forcefully that Kluya let a growl slip from under his breath. He knew his brother could take care of himself, but that didn't mean he liked it when anyone got rough with him. "This discussion isn't over yet! The boy can wait." He cut Kluya a side-eye, which Kluya returned by smiling even more forcefully.

"It is over, Zemus," Fusoya said softly, placing his free hand over Zemus's clenching grip. "Or rather, it has been for quite some time. The construction of the vessels that will put us into stasis are nearly complete. This moon will provide us a safe place to sleep, and this crystal palace we've erected will protect the new crystals in our stead. When the time is right, we will join the people of the Blue Planet. This is my final say on the matter."

"But who gave you the authority!?" Zemus cried, shoving Fusoya away and throwing back his hood. His saffron eyes were narrowed to slits, his navy-blue lips set in a thin line. "This is what we narrowly escaped with our lives for – to be put into a moldy dungeon to rot for the next five-hundred years while we wait for this planet's weaklings to play catch-up? Does anyone else comprehend how ridiculous this sounds?"

"Lord Zemus, temper yourself!" a woman cried, stepping between him and Fusoya. "This is what all of us want – it's the wish of the majority not to start a war with the people of the Blue Planet. We'd be no better than the monster that destroyed our home if we did that. What Lord Fusoya was saying before must be true – there is a higher purpose we are to serve if we've managed to survive thus far! And sending innocent people into the frenzies of war is _not_ that purpose."

"Grrrr!" Zemus spun on his heel, his cloak cracking behind him as he stormed away wordlessly, plunging into the rear crystal chamber in a flash of black light. Fusoya paid the murmurings of the others no mind as he strode purposefully toward Kluya, nodding toward the eastern tower which he had originally been trying to sneak into. Kluya sighed, falling in step behind his brother as they silently made their way up the stairs.

At the top of the tower, Fusoya pushed into the silver-etched glass doors that opened to a small veranda – it was only wide enough to fit the two of them. Kluya slid up beside him, pressing his palms into the chilled crystal-encrusted railing as he stared at the opalescent blue marble hanging in the black skies above.

"Kluya…be it that I am happy to see you in such bolstered spirits as of late, you know what I'm going to say, right?"

"I do," Kluya said softly, his eyes never wavering.

Fusoya's eyes, in turn, never left Kluya. He took in his younger brother's inky navy hair – it would have blended in with the surrounding atmosphere if the crystal palace behind them had not been illuminated. He had started to grow it out – it had been closely shorn when they had fled, and now it was already past his ears, brushing the nape of his neck. He had started to grow a beard, too – it was still just shadowy stubble, but everything had finally filled in – he had been bare-faced the last time Fusoya had seen him.

But something else had changed as well – the light in his violet eyes had come alive like a supernova – Fusoya could see the pulse of another heart, distant as it was, reverberating in his gaze.

"I know the Blue Planet holds a fascination for you, little brother. And your expeditions there have been enormously useful for the Lunarians – all of the data, your candid observations, the willingness to introduce the people of the Blue Planet to magic…but you've seen in-person what the rest of us have speculated for quite some time now – that more evolution needs to take place before we can fully integrate ourselves. Right?"

"Yes…you're right," Kluya replied. "But aren't you going to lecture me for sneaking off again?"

"No. I know you're just trying to prove Zemus wrong, in your own way – trying to bring awareness to the fact that the people on the Blue Planet are in fact, people – no different than you and I. But I'm afraid your efforts are lost on him – I suspect it might take a little more than reason to reach him at this point."

"But why?"

"He's afraid. I can sense that his heart is clouded by regret – he's lived in a state of perpetual despair since we fled. He lost everyone he loved – he feels that all he could manage to save was a worthless piece of glass. He just wants to feel like the sacrifice was worth it – that's why he's so eager to colonize the Blue Planet."

Kluya leaned over the railing. The moonscape below looked to be hundreds of miles away from their position in the highest spire of the crystal palace. "But we lost our parents. And so many other people lost everything as well. Zemus isn't alone…far from it. There are souls hurting on the Blue Planet too. I've met so many…a lot of them could be helped with our magic." He finally turned away from the image of the Blue Planet in the sky, and looked into Fusoya's watery blue eyes.

 _It's too late,_ Fusoya thought to himself as he caught his brother's gaze. _He's staring right at me, but his heart is a million miles away. Something else happened on his latest visit…_

Fusoya cleared his throat.

"Do you really think it's wise, going to live among them, Kluya?"

Kluya blinked. "W-What?" But Fusoya could tell by the way his little brother's pupils darkened that he had hit the nail on the head.

"You would be the only one of your kind. If something happened…I wouldn't be able to reach you. If your ship broke down, it might be many, many years before their technology would evolve to the point where you had any hope of fixing it. You could be stranded there for the rest of your natural life." Fusoya shook his head, his white ponytail swishing over his robed shoulders.

"Which, I may add, we're not sure how long would actually _be_ on the Blue Planet. We haven't gathered sufficient data on the flow of time compared to our planet – we only know for sure that at least one part of that planet has a very chaotic continuum – the plane the All-Father Bahamut's Eidolon subjects reside in."

Kluya shrugged away these _minor_ details. "…Would that necessarily be a bad thing, to be the only Lunarian there? Wouldn't it be best if we did have someone on the Blue Planet to keep an eye on things? To be there if Zemus did decide to act irrationally?"

"Zemus is still one of us, and he deserves the benefit of the doubt," Fusoya shook his head. "To make such arrangements when your very life is at stake for a hypothetical situation is what I would call the irrational act. What are you thinking, Kluya? Just come out and tell me."

"I…" Kluya again gazed up at the Blue Planet. "I'm a man of science. It's natural for me to be curious about our new world, right? Everything there captures my imagination – the wildlife, the cities, the people…" He trailed off, a slight smile forming on his lips. "…Some far more than others."

Fusoya tilted his head, watching the slow blush climb up Kluya's cheek. "Who is she?"

Kluya didn't skip a beat. His voice took on a dreamy lilt. "Her name is Cecilia. Her eyes, brother – as soon as I came upon them, I felt as if I were home again. They are the same brilliant blue as the planet itself – I feel like I'm looking at her right now."

Fusoya followed Kluya's stare, pressing his lips together. The Blue Planet _was_ beautiful – it was undeniable. He lacked his brother's imagination and scientific curiosity, and could hardly comprehend what it must be like on the planet's surface – he wondered if Kluya meant "home" as in their former planet, or if his heart had already pledged itself to this new celestial body.

"And this Cecilia knows what you are?"

"Yes – I told her right away. My hand was a bit forced – I used magic to save her from a pack of monsters. That was quite a while ago – I met her one of the first days I began my exploration of the planet."

"Ah," Fusoya shook his head. "And the plot thickens. And she's…all right, with everything she has seen thus far? You've been seeing her since that day?"

"She accepts me for who I am," Kluya smiled. "She didn't even bat an eye when I told her about our people's plight. Do you know the first thing she said when I was done with my tale? She asked what _she_ could do to help _us_. She's an orphan, just like you and I – and I also get the impression that she does not hold a high station in her homeland. She lives in a rich city-state that values wealth and the correct bloodline above all else, both of which she seemingly lacks, at least according to the standards of her peers. But despite being told she has nothing to offer society, she still wanted to know how she could help _me_ , an alien wanderer who can offer her nothing in return."

"It sounds like she has a selfless heart," Fusoya finally smiled. "I can see why you are so taken by her. But…there are considerations that should be taken into account, yes? Long-term, we don't understand the ramifications of…"

Kluya shook his head. "Brother…please forgive my selfishness. But I've known since the moment I first set foot on the Blue Planet that I wanted to be part of its evolution. It's not like Zemus, where he wants to take it all for his own – I just want to live among them, observe and integrate – help them evolve so the rest of our people can get out of stasis as quickly as possible and start living again. And, now that Cecilia has…" he trailed off, looking away as he mumbled to himself.

"Cecilia has what?" Fusoya prodded. When Kluya didn't respond, Fusoya touched his shoulder. Kluya flinched under the touch, but raised his voice to at least be barely audible.

"…She's fallen pregnant. With my child. So, you understand why I have to go back, right? This is…"

" _Unprecedented_ ," Fusoya drew in a sharp breath. "Kluya, do you understand the gravity of what has occurred here? That child – it will be neither Lunarian or Human – should it or Cecilia even survive gestation. Please tell me that this wasn't your idea of an experiment that you dragged this poor girl into."

"It wasn't!" Kluya cried, spinning around to face Fusoya. His eyes were rimmed with red, his nose screwed-up in mid-grimace. "I would never...! It was an act of love – with intent as pure as the crystal's light in this very palace. Neither of us meant for this to happen, but it did – and I _won't_ run away. Cecilia, the baby, and the Blue Planet – they are my future now."

"Perish the thought," Fusoya sighed. He felt bad for making the suggestion that Kluya harbored ill-intentions – perhaps Zemus's needling was getting to his normally-placid state after all. How long had it taken them to finally get to this point where they felt safe enough to sleep away the remainder of their journey to a new home? The end-goal was tantalizingly being dangled before them, but Kluya was anxious to jump ship now and take his chances. He claimed he was different from Zemus, but Fusoya felt that perhaps they had more in common than Kluya wanted to admit.

But hadn't his little brother always been like that? Wasn't that why their parents had forced Fusoya into going after Kluya when he had tried to rescue them instead?

 _"We'll be fine making it on our own to the escape hatches – you have to find Kluya! He's too reckless – he'll get some crazy idea in his mind that he can fight the planet eater on his own. Drag him kicking and screaming if you have to!"_

Fusoya winced at the memory. It had been the last time he would ever see them again – he hadn't even gotten to shout a good-bye before he was forced out of the collapsing house.

 _But I can't follow him this time, Mother and Father…_

 _My place is here, with our people…the Lunarians have charged me with watching over their sleep. Kluya doesn't know yet, but I don't think I can bring myself to tell him. He would be racked by guilt if he knew that he had total freedom while I remained on guard here. Although I am happy to do it, he would see it as an imprisonment, and would ultimately choose to stay with me out of loyalty – I can't do that to him, especially knowing what I do now._

"Are you angry with me?" Kluya asked, and Fusoya blinked, his daydream shattered.

"I…no, of course not." He suddenly drew Kluya into a tight embrace, intense enough to make his little brother squirm in discomfort. Kluya had never been much of a hugger and had been shy most of his life – so it was still a little hard for Fusoya to believe that the man had gone full-steam ahead and given life to a zygote. And yet, here they were – the second time in such a short while that their lives were irreversibly altered. But this time, the road they had been traversing together had become forked.

"Forgive me – I don't want us to part on bad terms. This surely is your destiny…who am I to oppose fate? You have my unfettered support."

"Thank you, Fusoya!" Kluya exclaimed, finally returning the embrace by awkwardly resting his hands on Fusoya's shoulder blades. "But don't act like this is good-bye – I'll have the Lunar Whale, and I'll keep her safe and out of sight so I can come back. You'll want to meet your niece or nephew, right?"

"Of course," Fusoya smiled. Kluya smiled back hesitantly, pulling away.

"The baby…it will be OK. Cecilia is strong and determined…in that respect, she's just like any other Lunarian woman."

"I know. I shouldn't have said anything to the contrary. This will not be the last time I would have benefited from your optimistic streak, brother. The light in your eyes…it's positively brilliant to behold. It's nice to see at least one of us finally grasping onto a mote of hope after everything that has happened."

"I just can't believe it…" Kluya turned away, his stare once again drawn to the glowing blue marble hanging in the horizon. Fusoya could see twin Blue Planets reflected in his brother's gaze. "I'm going to be a father. _My_ son or daughter is going to be the bridge between two peoples – the truest affirmation that we can co-exist as one race.

It's nothing short of a miracle…even someone as stubborn as Zemus will understand the importance of this child's birth – if not now, perhaps someday…"

* * *

 _The Lunar Subterrane_

The higher Golbez climbed, the stronger the pulsing ruby light became. He lost track of how much time had passed – hours or years, there seemed to be no difference at this point – and his hunger pangs and burning thirst had long ceased, despite his not eating or drinking anything to relieve them. He propelled himself forward with the conviction of a devout, only mildly concerned that the light had seemingly scared off all the monsters he had remembered stalking the subterrane's passages in droves.

When he at last reached the silver-plated rune that would transport him to the crystal palace, he found himself completely embraced in the scalding red light. Shielding his eyes as he peered into the depthless chasm above, he swore he could hear distant whispers calling to him.

"It's definitely coming from the crystal palace up above," Golbez muttered. "Who else could be here besides Fusoya and myself?" He crossed over the rune before he could change his mind, and teleported to the surface in a flash of white light.

When Golbez's vision finally came into focus and the world around him stopped spinning, he stumbled forward off the rune he had teleported onto, trying to collect his jaw from where it had promptly hit the floor. He was surrounded by a circle of eight daises that were spread throughout the mirrored chamber – the home of the crystals of the Red Moon. The last time he had entered this chamber – before he had been put to sleep – the crystals had shone with moonlight and were a rainbow of colors that made blinding prisms sail throughout the chamber. But now, something had gone horribly wrong.

The source of the menacing red light was the crystals themselves, giving the chamber the same effect as the site of a merciless massacre. Golbez walked up to one crystal, hesitantly reaching out and stroking the crimson surface with his index finger. He let out a hiss of pain as he reeled back – the heat of the light was emanating directly from the crystal's core and burned to the touch. If he stared closely enough, he could see the surface of the crystal vibrating with unbridled power.

 _The crystals! They're the color of blood…!_

Watching his fingertip rapidly swell, the skin white and taunt against the impending blister, Golbez stepped back, silently summoning a Blizzard spell into his hand so he could drown his finger within and numb the pain. He took a slow lap around the chamber, his trembling reflection shining back at him eight-fold as he inspected each crystal – all the same sickly hue, all humming steadily with overflowing energy.

A feathery-soft voice whispered in his ear as he approached the final crystal, gasping and popping like a death rattle.

 _It has come…the object of our search…_

 _The light…at the end of the winding path…_

 _The dark-dispell…ing light…must be unlocked…_

 _They were created… The crystals…alone…_

 _They are infinite… The rightful ones, floating in the void…_

 _The right…ful…possessor…_

 _Waiting…endlessly…the great secret, sequestered…_

 _The history has been recorded… It must be revealed._

"What…what the hell is this?!" Golbez covered his ears, trying to drown the persistent voices as they rode down his spine like trails of ice water. "The crystals…are they speaking to me!?"

"You noticed, I see."

Golbez whirled around toward the new voice, which sounded much closer and decidedly much more human. He watched as Fusoya entered the crystal chamber from the rear, through a doorway that he knew would lead to the crystal palace proper from his last visit. His uncle looked exactly the same as he had when they had parted ways to go to sleep – his ankle-length white hair, the majority of it receded as far back as his crown, lifted itself from the floor in delicate curled tendrils, his matching white beard brushing over the stomach of his purple and blue ombre robes. The only distinguishable feature of his face not hidden by his beard were his sky-blue eyes, which always had the look of a too-diluted watercolor that threatened to bleed through the page.

Equal parts confused and relieved, Golbez approached Fusoya, his brow furrowed as he slowly lowered his hands from his head. It appeared that for now, the voices had stopped – had Fusoya done something to quiet them? "Fusoya. You were aware of this?"

Fusoya glanced at each of the crystals, a barely-detectable sigh emitting from the depths of his beard. "For not much longer than you, I imagine. When I awoke, you and the others were still fast-asleep – I thought perhaps I was the only one who could hear the crystals' cries. But I haven't been up here long – you must have been right behind me." His gaze returned to Golbez, and a small smile made his mustache twitch. "It is a happy, but not entirely unexpected, surprise to me that they were able to reach your heart – as dire as the situation before us seems to be."

Golbez rested his hands on his hips. So, it was a _good_ thing that he could hear all these maddening voices? "What do you think the crystals are trying to tell us?"

Fusoya shook his head. "I can only guess. Something is happening here. Something that is beyond all of our understanding – the crystals know this, but they don't know how to explain to us in a way we can comprehend. Something powerful is blocking their energy, too – they've gone haywire trying to reach us."

"What could have happened to our moon while we were in stasis?" Golbez whispered. "How long did it take to get this bad…?"

"Not long, I'm afraid," Fusoya frowned. "All of this is very recent – you and I would have felt this presence long ago had it been lingering. It's been seventeen years since we fell asleep, you know."

"What!?" Golbez cried. "Surely, that can't be…it feels like I just closed my eyes mere hours ago."

"Nearly seventeen years to the day, precisely," Fusoya added nonchalantly. He pressed his lips together, and Golbez noticed that his foot was tapping, but it wasn't hitting the floor – he was floating again. "My sleep had been dreamless until today – I dreamt of the crystals soaked in blood before suddenly waking up. Did you have any dreams, Golbez?"

"A nightmare, specifically…Cecil, he…" Golbez shifted his gaze away, and Fusoya nodded thoughtfully.

"…I see. Please don't be alarmed – not every dream a Lunarian has is a premonition."

"And what of a half-Lunarian?"

"Doubly-true, I imagine. Of course, I suppose your brother would be the one to best help answer that…"

Golbez could hear the echo of his teeth grinding as his jaw clenched. _Seventeen years…!_

"My investigations only took me as far as the remainder of the crystal palace," Fusoya said gently, deciding that a change of subject was in order. "While I was in one of the spires, I spotted an unsettling site to the west – it appears to be some sort of scorched crater – nothing that is familiar to me at all, so I fear it may correspond with what the crystals are trying to warn us of. Will you come with me?"

"Of course," Golbez frowned. "There's no way I can go back to sleep after all this. But will the others be safe?"

"The crystals will protect them in our place," Fusoya nodded. "Of course, we can't be gone for very long…"

"Understood." Golbez took one last look at the unchanging crystals before following Fusoya out, his heart hammering in his chest. For a second, he swore he saw a cerulean eye blink at him from the crimson-stained depths, squeezing the air out of his lungs before closing and fading away.

 _Mother…Cecil…!_

* * *

 _The Red Moon, seven months after Kluya's departure_

"You can't make me do this! If you don't unhand me this instant, I'll…!"

Before Zemus could break free of the two other men who were struggling to bind him, Fusoya raised his staff, cracking him across his bare skull with one steady thrash.

Zemus's eyes rolled in the back of his head, and he slumped forward, nearly dragging the two men down with his weight.

"Is he down for the count?" one of the men huffed, stooping down so he could swing Zemus's arm around his shoulder and slowly rise back to his full height.

"How could he have resisted all of our magic?" the other cried. "Stop, Slow, Hold – none of them took!"

"He must have some sort of protection on his person," Fusoya sighed, lowering his staff. He was thoroughly disgusted with himself for what he had just done – but he had been left with little choice. He could see the pure, unadulterated rage building in Zemus's eyes – it would have been only a matter of time before Zemus had done something foolish, like take out the entire crystal palace with a Meteor spell.

The final day of the Lunarians' wakefulness had come upon them. Every member of their population, accounting too for new births, had been built and secured a vessel in which they would enter stasis and sleep for what was now confirmed to be an indefinite, indeterminable amount of time. With the exception of Fusoya, Zemus, and a few others, everyone had already been escorted to their designated pod and had begun the new leg of their journey. Fusoya realized now that he was foolish to harbor any hope that Zemus wouldn't continue resisting until the very bitter end.

That morning he had been awoken by Zemus storming into his chambers with another laundry list of excuses as to why he should not sleep – and he had taken to using Kluya as his trump card, thinking that he was the one person that would make Fusoya change his mind.

"You haven't heard from your brother in well over seven months – what if he's hurt, or worse, dying in a gutter somewhere? I understand why you can't leave – but let me go to him in your stead."

"Kluya is fine," Fusoya had growled. Zemus only knew half of the truth – after Kluya had departed, Fusoya had decided to keep the existence of Kluya's future heir a secret. It was true that Fusoya had not heard a word from Kluya since the day he left, but it had been because he had begged Kluya to never make contact with them, unless an emergency absolutely necessitated it. The more Fusoya had thought about the ramifications of Kluya's union with Cecilia, the more he feared just what exactly it was Zemus might do. He had observed Zemus becoming more twisted and obsessed with the idea of taking the Blue Planet for his own as Kluya idly dreamed of his permanent departure, oblivious to the storm that was brewing under his very nose. The tamest scenario Fusoya thought of was Zemus taking a page from Kluya's book and trying to sire an heir of his own to use as leverage. The worst scenario, which often had him waking up from his own screams in the middle of the night, was Zemus hunting Kluya and his new family down like dogs to spite Fusoya, and then taking the Blue Planet with their heads hanging from his belt.

"But I can't feel his presence anymore," Zemus had smiled sickeningly, his pointed tongue sliding over his lips as he pressed a palm to his chest. "Even when he was gallivanting about on his missions, I could tap into his life force – the mere distance between our moon and that planet cannot dampen my psychic powers. And as his brother, I know you can't feel him either – so why do you continue to live in denial?"

 _Because I ordered Kluya to close himself off from us,_ Fusoya thought deep, deep in his heart of hearts, where even Zemus's incredible psychic abilities could not reach. _Because I realized that if he is truly to live his new life…he must completely be severed from his past. As long as you continue to resist our peoples' dream, Kluya is no longer safe…!_

Zemus had thrown another fit and left – Fusoya thought perhaps since even his Kluya argument had failed, that perhaps he would give up and go quietly into stasis with the rest.

He had been wrong – optimism did not suit him, it turned out.

Zemus was waiting for him when he approached the crystal dais – and he had taken the two remaining men that were helping Fusoya hostage, threatening the lives of the other already-sleeping Lunarians if they escorted him into the Lunar Subterrane. Luckily, Fusoya had been able to intervene just in time before any spells had been slung against the innocent.

"I'll take him down by myself," Fusoya offered. He waved his staff again, casting a Float spell on Zemus's still body that lifted the burden of his weight off of the two men. He hung in the air listlessly, his chest steadily rising and falling like a sleeping child. "It won't be enough just to put him into stasis – I'll have to invoke the power of the crystals themselves to seal him in the deepest part of the Lunar Core. He's become a hazard to our mission."

"Lord Fusoya, are you sure about this?"

"You don't have to go alone – let us help!"

But Fusoya had never been surer of anything in his life. For once, he reckoned he knew what it felt like to be his little brother – to know so deeply the path to take that the cosmic map was practically burned into his retinas. As the moon's guardian, he would use the crystals' light to end Zemus's cruel ambitions once and for all – a couple of hundred years of slumber still might not be enough, but it was a start.

He had "dragged" Zemus's floating body throughout the Lunar Subterrane, stopping just before entering the Lunar Core so that he could frisk Zemus for any dangerous items he had intended on sneaking away with. Sure enough, his suspicions were confirmed – Zemus had planned on causing some major damage if he were by some miracle able to convince Fusoya he needed to go to the Blue Planet. He had stolen a large number of weapons from the meager armory they had managed to take along with them when they had made their great escape – including a holy lance, a holy sword, and a pair of katanas. He had also stolen the only two ribbons the Lunarians had salvaged – sacred relics that shielded the wearer from a multitude of magic, and if used properly, could render a sorcerer like Zemus invincible.

Fusoya stripped him of his stolen goods, dumping them unceremoniously on the ground before pulling Zemus deeper underground. Later, he would return and find a way to secure the weapons in the Lunar Subterrane – with the Lunarians asleep, he wanted to keep such dangerous items out of the reach of any invaders that may come for them – he could defend his people with magic, if it came down to it.

Once they reached the heart of the Lunar Core, Fusoya muttered a spell under his breath to teleport Zemus and himself to the lowest, deepest dimension of the twisted space-time he had molded into chambers of sleep. But this layer, in particular, he had not been planning on using – it was desolated, immersed in darkness, and just unstable enough that there was a modest possibility that anyone left here long enough could be lost in space forever, should just the right conditions be met.

But for Zemus, Fusoya decided to make an exception.

He chanted another spell, this one causing a small, swirling black hole to open in the ceiling above them from which a pod from the layer above was promptly pulled through and deposited at Fusoya's feet. He waved his staff, Zemus's body following the flow of Fusoya's movements and crashing into the pod. He then jammed the end of his staff into the mechanism inside the pod that would have allowed someone to open it from the inside – a pathetic buzzing noise fizzled into the dead air as a delicate curl of smoke crawled out of the hole Fusoya had gouged out.

He pressed the outside release, and a glass dome slid closed, sealing Zemus tightly inside. Just as the dome clicked into place, Zemus's eyes snapped open, and he let out a furious howl, slamming his fists into the glass and letting out a string of curses. Fusoya stepped back calmly, his expression blank as he grasped his staff with both hands, raising it into the air.

'Lunar Crystals, I beseech you – seal this dimension with your holy light, and grant infinite slumber to those who reside within."

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Zemus roared, and Fusoya watched from beneath hooded lids as Zemus frantically reached into his massive mantle – searching for one of his stolen weapons, no doubt. When he realized they had all gone missing, he slammed his fist into the glass so vigorously that for a moment, Fusoya feared the glass would break apart and rain at his feet – but the pod held strong, merely vibrating with a loud "twang" that made Zemus's knuckles blossom with blood as he pounded over and over again. Streaks of the blood began to drip down the inside of the glass – pockets of red that pulsed against Zemus's flashing yellow eyes.

"This is for the best, Zemus," Fusoya said sadly. He hated this – all of it. Zemus would never understand that Fusoya's heart was shattering in his chest, watching the man he had grown up with, who had once done so much for their people before the unthinkable had happened, suffering so tremendously. His power and charisma had been unmatched – he could have easily had a hand in carving out a beautiful future for both the Lunarians and the people of the Blue Planet, if only he had been patient enough to let that future come.

 _First Kluya, and now you…how many more people I care about am I to lose before this is all over?_

As the crystals' light began to gently fill the room, idly drifting over Zemus's pod and dancing over his skin, which was now plum with rage – Fusoya felt a sudden rush of fever push through him, crawling up his legs and exploding in his chest, a veil of white drawing over his eyes. Startled, he stumbled backwards, dropping his staff with a crash that could barely be heard over Zemus's screams.

 _This presence…it's not Kluya…but it feels so much like him that it hurts…like my heart is being clutched in someone's fist._

He closed his eyes, quivering shadows dancing behind his lids like the reflections of a fire off of a cavern wall. A wail of a child reverberated in his skull, and his eyes popped back open.

 _Kluya's child…has been born!? That feeling…it the birth of a new Lunarian?_

He had become so enraptured by his impromptu daydream that he hadn't noticed Zemus's sudden silence until after a few moments had passed. Collecting his wits, Fusoya leaned down, grabbing his staff and using it for leverage as he hesitantly approached Zemus's pod. His summoning of the crystals' light had nearly expended all of his energy – had the strange surge of adrenaline not filled his core moments ago, he figured he would be flat on his face on the floor.

Zemus was laying peacefully in his bed, his eyes closed and hands crossed over his chest, like he was an eternal state of prayer. Fusoya let out a shaking sigh of relief, letting his arms drop to the glass dome as he sank to his knees and let out a single sob.

"I'm sorry, Zemus…I hope that someday, you'll forgive me…may the crystals' light show you dreams of the exquisite future we _all_ deserve. With time, it will be ours – and we'll share it with the people of the Blue Planet. I know it's possible – Kluya has shown me it is – but you and I just need to wait a little longer."

Fusoya stayed by Zemus's pod for a few moments longer, offering prayers to any gods that would see it fit to hear them – he realized that this would be the last time for a long while that he would ever be with anyone again. Once he escorted the last two Lunarians that were waiting for him to their respective sleeping pods, he would be very, very alone, the last remaining soul on an otherwise lifeless satellite. It was humbling to feel the rush of fear seizing his limbs as he struggled to pull himself up from the floor and teleported away – he was sure it was the very same feeling Zemus had experienced in his final moments awake.

* * *

The corner of Zemus's mouth tugged up in a small smile as his consciousness began to slowly sink into warm, bubbly oblivion.

 _I can feel it…a powerful new soul has just emerged from the life stream. So, so far away, yet I can sense him as if he were standing right beside me…_

 _Ah yes, Lunarian blood rages through your veins…of that there is no doubt, diluted as it may be. Keep your heart innocent and open, little half-blood…no need to hide it away, is there?_

 _Grow strong and true to your potential – I will heed Fusoya's advice after all, and exercise patience._

 _I guess he was right…it WILL be wonderful to have such an exquisite future to look forward to…And you will help me achieve it faster than I could have ever dreamed!_


	27. Act Twenty-Seven: Golbez's Tale

Act Twenty-Seven: Golbez's Tale | The Road to Hell

"Hum-Hum-Hummmm…here is your food!"

Golbez tried not to stare as a white lagomorph shuffled up to him with a pink hood, wide blue eyes, and a steaming lump wrapped in what looked like paper that was made out of metal.

"Thank you," Fusoya said, being handed a lump of his own. Golbez watched him peel back the metal wrapping, revealing a glistening sweet potato, and taking a huge bite. "Mmmm! Delicious as always, Hummingway!"

"Hum-hum-hum!" the rabbit in front of Golbez shoved his offering up higher, but since he was so tiny compared to Golbez's massive frame, he only succeeded in reaching his knees. Golbez stooped down, accepting the potato and giving the rabbit an awkward pat on his head.

"Thanks…"

Golbez unwrapped his food, giving it one last stare before lifting it to his mouth. A familiar burst of starchy sweetness hit his tongue, and he relaxed his clenching shoulders.

"This…isn't so bad. It just begs the question…how does one grow sweet potatoes on the moon?"

"Another tale for another time," Fusoya smiled. "But the Hummingway race itself is an enigma that I have not been able to solve in all my time on this moon, so I've learned not to question them too much and to just accept the absurdity of their existence. I am quite happy to have some semblance of enchantment in my life, especially after some of the things I've seen." He nodded toward the entrance of the cave he had lead them into. "Shall we continue to the crater?"

"Certainly," Golbez replied, grateful that he would no longer be stared at by dozens of twinkling, vacant eyes – the entire Hummingway clan was watching him expectantly, their massive front teeth flashing in matching grins. "Although we really didn't have to stop on my account…"

"The sounds your stomach was making would have awoken every sleeping beast in our path. Besides, it's been seventeen years since you've last eaten, and we'll both need our strength for whatever is to come…"

"This all sounds very promising."

The walk to the crater was a short distance away from the Hummingway abode. The two men could smell it before it even came into sight – the normally sterile atmosphere of the moon was tainted with a curdling stench that made Golbez's eyes and nostrils burn. He had to force himself to eat the rest of his food, since the first whiff of the site had instantly eradicated his appetite.

The silky dust that normally covered the moon's surface had been depressed into a deep pit and blackened beyond recognition. Jagged glowing red cracks traced the core, splintering out toward the crater's rim. Lavender gasses occasionally spurted into the air from lacerations in the ground, forming a dense blanket of smog. Golbez knelt down, digging his fingers into the scorched ground and unearthing a couple of broken rocks and dirt-encrusted ice shards.

"Look at this!" He brought the rocks to his nose, inhaling. "It smells like a blade left too long in the forge."

"There must have been a meteor strike here," Fusoya stroked his beard, the small smile granted by his visit to the Hummingway adobe now vanished. "But this crater looks so different than any other impact site I've seen. The Red Moon has been hit by much debris over the years, but nothing like this."

"What remains is eating away at the land itself, like a parasite," Golbez frowned. "If it keeps up, we're going to have a massive sinkhole on our hands."

Fusoya sighed. "This may be no mere meteor after all."

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I can't say anything else beyond that for now. Even I am at a loss." Fusoya narrowed his eyes as he peered deeper into the impact site, and Golbez rose to his feet, letting the tainted moon dust fall from his fingers. He followed Fusoya's gaze, his stomach somersaulting as he saw a faint shadow flicker in the hazy depths.

"Is…someone in there?"

"Someone or _something_ …"

Golbez found himself subconsciously feeling for his blade to ensure it was still where he left it hanging from his shoulder.

"When you woke up…was anyone else missing?"

"No…I checked all the pods before I left to be sure…" Fusoya closed his eyes, pressing his gnarled fingers over his chest. "…Whoever is down there, they are not a Lunarian. That much I can tell."

Fusoya and Golbez looked at each other, and without another word, crossed the rim of the impact site. Sliding down the rock-strewn slopes (or in Fusoya's case, gliding), they both kept their eyes trained on the shadow, which didn't seem to be making much of an effort to go anywhere. It would start to walk in one direction, pause, and then swivel around to go another direction, never leaving the ten foot radius it had carved out for itself. Finally it stopped, the sound of harried wheezing carrying through the crater.

Pushing past a final curtain of smog, Golbez and Fusoya came to a halt, eyes wide. The creature in front of them was no more than a girl – a fairly young one, at that. Her back was turned to them, covered in a sweep of turquoise hair that fell in soft waves down her spine, a white gown brushing the tops of her feet. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, skin so pale that it was nearly translucent. Her head was bowed, and her shoulders gently rose and with each heavy gasp of breath.

"And who might you be…?" Fusoya asked gently.

"Are you OK?" Golbez extended his hand toward her. As if sensing he was getting too close, the girl whirled around, taking a few steps back and baring her teeth.

"Where are the crystals?" she demanded. Her troubled breathing suddenly ceased – her amber eyes were narrowed, and her silver and ruby jewelry jingled with her abrupt movements.

Fusoya cut a glance at Golbez before answering, and Golbez noticed that his grip had tightened considerably on his staff. He decided to let his uncle do the talking for now, and to keep his eyes on the little stranger. She was glaring daggers at Fusoya, and her upper lip was twitching with impatience. Fusoya arched his brow. "Why do you want to know?"

"There should be eight more crystals on this moon," she barked, as if she were talking to an imbecile.

Fusoya tilted his head. "Eight _more_? What are you talking about?"

The girl crossed her arms over her chest, one slender finger extended across her arm as she slowly shook her head. The slight movement had lifted her gown, and Golbez saw that her bare toes were buried in moon dust. Fusoya shrugged.

"No reply? Then don't expect one from us, either."

The three of them fell into a staring match, with the mysterious girl glowering at Fusoya, Fusoya returning the favor, and Golbez's attention bouncing between the two of them, his hand once again hovering over his sword.

After a few strained moments, the mysterious girl finally shook her head, rolling her eyes. "It makes no difference."

Golbez took a step forward, and the click of his blade's hilt hitting the prayer beads wrapped around his wrist pierced the otherwise still air. "What?"

The girl smirked, raising one hand in the air. "I will have all the time I need to search for them...once I obliterate the both of you."

A pale yellow light embraced her form, and an assembly of yellow and jade crystal spheres appeared in the air, whirling around the girl in a blinding frenzy until they exploded into shimmering particles of light. Golbez and Fusoya drew back, covering their eyes as the light swallowed the three of them whole and made the ground beneath their feet quake, a shriek ripping through the air. When the light had finally faded, the Lunarians dared to open their eyes, sensing that they had been joined by yet another presence.

Standing before them now was the mysterious girl encased in white light, her eyes narrowed and her hair wildly whipping behind her – and in front of her was her newly-summoned champion, a leggy goddess with flaxen hair piled atop her head in a severe bun. Spiked, red hair combs that were carved from the bones of enemies long-gone from this world were tucked in her tresses strategically to keep everything held in place. Her canary-yellow wrap gown hung past her hips, and grasped in her henna-tattooed hands were a pair of scimitars, each gleaming with the threat of having been freshly-polished and sharpened for use on a new opponent to add to her ornament collection. Her violet eyes were dead hollows that held no light, and her flesh had a sickly green tint, the skin pulled so tightly over her cheekbones that she resembled a skull with hair.

Golbez felt a stinging behind his eyes. Wincing, he withdrew his ebony sword, trying to ignore his memory's desperate efforts to recall where he had seen this woman before. It didn't seem too terribly important since she looked ready to shove both of her blades down his and Fusoya's respective throats. But Fusoya had no such difficulties with his memory – he lowered his staff in surprise, taking a step closer.

"Asura!" he gasped, and the scattered puzzle pieces fell into place in Golbez's brain – _click_!

 _She is Asura…Queen of the Feymarch, the land of summoned monsters…_

"Why? Why are _you_ summoning the Eidolons!?" Golbez cried. "What happened to Rydia of Mist?"

"Rydia of Mist…" the mysterious girl trailed off, her eyes narrowed with malice. "… _He_ mistook me for her too…You humans really are foolish."

"Ahhhha!" Asura screamed, two more pairs of arms exploding from her sides accompanied with the nauseating sound of tearing flesh. One of the new pairs was outfitted in yet more blades, a slender epee and a ribbon-wrapped spear, and the other pair held a single diamond-crested staff. Her head twisted on her neck in a bizarre angle, revealing a new face that looked as if it had been char-broiled and left in the sun to dry into leather, white war paint smeared beneath her eyes. She leapt forward, her epee connecting with Golbez's ebony blade as he threw himself between Asura and Fusoya. With a grunt, he drove her off, thrusting forward in a parry and delivering a nasty fissure to her forearm.

"What do we do?" Golbez asked while Asura howled in recoil. Her faces spun once again, this time revealing her previous "human" face and casting a Curaga spell on herself. "Asura is not going to let us touch that girl – she's completely under her control."

"Indeed, this is not the same Asura that befriended Rydia of Mist," Fusoya shook his head. "It seems that she does not recognize me at all. I'm afraid we have no choice but to take them both out at once. Shall I focus on defense while you take over on offense?"

"Works for me," Golbez shrugged, and gestured for Fusoya to get out of his way. Fusoya scrambled a few yards behind Golbez and began to rattle off a succession of defensive spells to give them a semblance of protection. Asura finished healing herself, her eyes locking on Fusoya as he became immersed in another spell.

"Hey, over here!" Golbez snapped, raising his hand and motioning for Asura to pay attention to him. In lieu of moving, her head spun around once more to face him, this time revealing a stone-masked demon that had black, gaping eyeholes and a slash for a mouth. Golbez stepped forward with his blade raised, but as Asura spun to parry with her spear, he quickly fired off a Quake spell instead, the ground beneath Asura and the mysterious girl splitting open and swallowing them into shallow chasms. The girl screamed at Asura to help her as she tried to claw her way out of the volatile plates – just as her hands brushed the surface, the land hiccupped again and dragged her back in to the churning pit.

"Aieeee!" Asura shrieked, three of her six arms flailing as her head spun once again to her "healing" face. Just as she was about to cast Curaga on herself and the girl, Fusoya hit the two of them with Reflect, and her healing magic bounced off them and collided with Golbez, filling him with a rush of divine energy.

"I'm sorry, Asura…" Golbez whispered under his breath. "I swore I would never raise my hands against the eidolons again, but…" He closed his eyes, a storm of crackling energy racing up his spine and igniting every nerve ending in his body – Fusoya must have followed up with a Haste spell. He took advantage of the buff, calling down two simultaneous Flare spells that rained hellfire upon both Asura and the mysterious girl, trapping them in a cage of flame that cumulated into an explosion so fierce that it blew away the curtains of smog. His cloak whipped back so violently from the impact that he was nearly strangled.

When the shower of moon dust that had been tossed in the air finally settled, they were left with Asura wilted in her chasm, her head lolled on the ground and her eyes screwed shut. She faded away with nary a whimper, her bent and melted weapons disappearing alongside her. Golbez heard Fusoya approach from behind as he walked over to where he had trapped the mysterious girl, kneeling down to get a closer look.

She was collapsed at the bottom of the pit, her head twisted at an odd angle and her charred face streaked with blood. Golbez bent over the ledge, grabbing her arm and dragging her back to the surface. He could feel before completing this task that she was far-gone – her flesh was stiff and cold through the threading of her gossamer gown, and her head flopped about as if it were hanging by a string – her neck was broken through and through.

"We have slain her…" Fusoya muttered.

Golbez gently pressed his fingers over her eyelids, sliding them down so that her vacant yellow glare no longer bore into him. "…Yes. She was stronger than her appearance would lead one to believe."

"Why would a girl like that be wielding eidolons?"

"I don't know, but I suspect it bodes ill for us…" Golbez stood back up, crossing his arms.

"Yes..." Fusoya turned to Golbez, resting his hand over his arm. "You had no choice, Golbez. I hope that I didn't put you in a regrettable situation…"

Golbez bit his lip, turning away. He could feel something putrid churning in his stomach, but willed it to stay deep, deep inside, where it could fester quietly. He would deal with it later – maybe in his nightmares, once he was back asleep.

"No…my decisions were my own. Besides, I can't yield white magic like you and Cecil – I couldn't even cast Cure as a kid. If you hadn't been left to our defense, things would have turned out a lot worse for us."

Fusoya nodded, lowering his hand. "Bahamut, the All-Father of Eidolons, resides in a cave north of here. I think it'd be best if we checked up on him – maybe he can help us understand what happened to Asura."

"Right," Golbez replied, taking one last look at the mysterious girl's corpse. She had not yet faded away or crumbled to dust – that confirmed she had not been a monster in a human guise. Remembering the girl's final words before their battle had begun, he turned back to Fusoya. "The girl said something about another human mistaking her for Rydia…what do you suppose she meant by that?"

"She could have been bluffing to throw us off," Fusoya sighed. "But it may be more likely that she has already encountered someone else who knew Rydia…someone who knew her well enough to understand that she should have been the one to hold sway over the eidolons…"

Golbez closed his eyes – the raucous hammering in his chest had begun again, same as when Cecil's blade had sliced through him in his nightmare.

 _I can count the number of people who would know Rydia that intimately on one hand…_

* * *

Bahamut's cavern on the Red Moon was known among the Lunarians as the Lair of the Father. Fusoya remembered the first time he had encountered Bahamut as clearly as if it had happened yesterday, and felt compelled to share the story with Golbez as they hiked out of the rotting impact site and made their way northbound. Part of him had wanted to distract Golbez from the unexpected encounter in the crater – no matter how desperately Golbez tried to hide his heart, Fusoya could sense the deep pain that had been reawakened in him when he had been forced to defeat Asura and the mysterious girl, even if they had been a threat to the crystals.

But another part of him also relished in the normalcy in something as trite as telling his nephew a story from his younger days – he supposed this was something _real_ families did, after all – his own father had shared many tales of his own life with him and Kluya before everything went to hell. He idly wondered what stories Kluya had shared with Golbez, if any, in their short time together before Kluya died.

He recalled how Golbez had barely reacted to the news of his Lunarian heritage seventeen years prior when Fusoya had explained to him who Zemus was and how it was their Lunarian blood that had made Zemus target Golbez for his scheme. His response had been the complete opposite of Cecil's, whom Fusoya was also fated to break the news of his true heritage to. His youngest nephew had been gutted by the news that he was only half-human, not able to speak for quite some time after. When he later learned Golbez was his brother, he shut down even more – his friends had barely been able to convince him to escape the collapsing Giant of Babil.

 _Those two are all that remain of my family, now…and even so, they traverse separate roads…Are Kluya and I's sad fates destined to be repeated once again?_

Fusoya quietly shook his head to himself, deciding that he now needed the distraction too, and began his tale.

"It could not have been more than a few weeks after we had created this moon that I first had the dream. Your father had already made his first unaccompanied visit to the Blue Planet – he was due to come back home that morning. In my dream, Bahamut had approached me in human form, advising me that he had taken a cavern to the north as his refuge, and that I was to tell my people he was never to be disturbed, lest they meet a horrific fate."

Golbez raised an eyebrow. "This is not the kind of story you should be telling while we are walking to _Bahamut's domain_. What kind of horrific fate are we talking about here?"

Fusoya chuckled, shaking his head. "Heavens, I'm not really sure. I didn't think about it too much – a vast majority of the refugee Lunarians were afraid to step foot outside of the crystal palace and were perfectly content in the village they had erected in the Lunar Subterrane. It seemed to me if this mysterious individual wanted one cavern to himself, then that was a perfectly reasonable request.

Anyway, your father came home, and I foolishly shared my dream with him. Being the font of curiosity that he was, Kluya of course wanted to immediately check out the cave for himself. I knew he was going to sneak off regardless of my protests, so I decided I may as well go with him."

"…That does sound like my father," Golbez smiled slightly. "It's fuzzy, but I can remember him getting yelled at a lot by my mother for the dangerous plots he oftentimes walked right into. At the time, I didn't think much of it…it just became background noise, and he always came home. But knowing some of the things I know now…I bet there was never a time she was _not_ worried about him walking back through the door."

Fusoya smiled back. "I guess nothing changed when he went to live on the Blue Planet, then. I oftentimes felt the same way when we lived together. When I followed him to the Lair of the Father, I asked him what his plan was, and he just shrugged and said he wanted to ask Bahamut what it was about our little moon that made it so appealing a hiding place – that was it. I was so flummoxed that I couldn't bring myself to say anymore until we had finally come face-to-face with Bahamut himself. By then, I was a quivering mess of robes, and Kluya just marched up to his dais, introduced himself, and asked the question."

"What happened?"

"I honestly think that Bahamut went into shock. He remained in his human form – thank the gods for that – and didn't say anything for a long while. Finally, he looked at Kluya, and then myself, and said: "My children were driving me insane, and I couldn't take another minute of even being on the same planet as they. I just wanted some peace and quiet – ever since they married, it's been non-stop vulgarity"."

"…What!?" Golbez blanched. "Surely, you jest."

"I'm afraid not," Fusoya laughed. "He explained to us that he was the Eidolon All-Father who had previously lived in the Feymarch on the Blue Planet, and told us all about summoners and their relationship with eidolons. He had never forged a covenant with a summoner himself – he had never found one worthy enough, in his eyes. After his children married, he decided enough was enough and took off – unlike Kluya, he had no hope that any humans would ever evolve enough to be deserving of his power. The only thing Bahamut values more than a valiant heart is stillness – he's an ancient and powerful creature, and is only able to read the hearts of his adversaries in total silence. As a human, he's blind – a form he chose on purpose as to not cloud his own judgment."

"And let me guess, his children were…"

"Asura and Leviathan, yes. The Queen and King of the Eidolons, siblings before their union."

"I see," Golbez looked down, trying to contain a shudder. "I guess they do things a bit differently in the Feymarch."

"Indeed. But Bahamut was a good ally to me while I was watching over the Lunarians' slumber, and he's been an even better ally to Rydia and your brother. That's why I…" Fusoya looked down, and Golbez paused. He hadn't realized it because they had been talking so much, but they were approaching the entrance of a new cavern – he presumed they had reached their destination. Golbez turned to Fusoya, clearing his throat.

"You don't owe me any explanations – Fusoya, I already told you I would help."

"Yes, but…I had only asked about investigating the meteor. This is different. The girl is gone now – whoever she was."

"It makes no difference to me," Golbez frowned. "Listen, I'm not going back into stasis until this is all figured out, so just let me help, OK? It's the very, _very_ least I could do at this point…please let me have this. Bahamut should be able to face the man who slew his daughter."

Fusoya turned his gaze upon Golbez, who was staring down at him silently, his hands at his waist and his fingers drumming impatiently over his abdomen.

 _Golbez…you do realize that not even Zemus was powerful enough to destroy your inner light, right? You are Kluya's son…and I see all of his goodness within you, even after everything that has happened. Do you understand that your pursuit to right_ _ **all**_ _of Zemus' wrongs will only end in devastation…?_

"What?" Golbez pressed, and Fusoya blinked. He hadn't realized that he had not been speaking aloud.

"…Nothing. Thank you, Golbez. Let us hurry."

They entered the cave, which was remarkably structured like the Lunar Subterrane – if Golbez hadn't known any better, he would have thought they had been buried below the crystal palace once again, although this cavern was draped in many more shadows that made seeing where you were going a near impossibility, even with the mouth of the cavern mere feet behind them. But the most striking difference between the two places was the eerie silence that permeated the air – not even their footsteps gave way to an echo as they crossed the dust-ridden cavern floors.

Golbez cast Fire, a globe of flame bursting to life in his outstretched palm to guide them. But Fusoya could have traversed the cave blindfolded – although he had only ever physically visited the cavern once with Kluya, he had come back many times in his dreams to converse with Bahamut while his people slept in the depths of space-time.

Out of morbid curiosity to see if his voice would even carry in such a place, Golbez posed a question as they slid down a small slope to another winding tunnel.

"It's just Bahamut here?"

He could hear himself speak, which somehow made him feel a little less nervous, but Fusoya didn't acknowledge the question for a few moments. Just when he was starting to grow concerned that perhaps he was only hearing the voice in his own head, Fusoya shook his head.

"Not exactly. You'll see in the next cavern. We're almost there now."

Fifteen minutes later, they crossed into a new chamber, which took them from the constrained and claustrophobic tunnel paths into an open-air grotto that was overwhelming in its opulence. A massive dais was carved at the ledge of a cliff, the natural floor of the cavern polished and smoothed into an exquisite tableau that had the look of snowy granite. A semi-circle of columns had been erected around the dais, the shadows of each intersecting in the center of the dais to create a starburst pattern, despite there being no visible light source in the cavern that would have produced such an effect. The tops of the columns were swallowed by the darkness above – there was no telling with the naked eye where the chamber's ceiling actually resided. The path to the dais was punctuated with a small flight of stairs, and flanking each side were two petite figures – upon closer inspection, Golbez realized they were children – one boy with light blue hair, and a girl with light pink hair pulled back into pigtails that dragged on the floor. The children were staring at the two of them with abject horror on their faces – their wide, pupil-less eyes unblinking even as Golbez and Fusoya came closer.

"What's wrong?" Golbez asked while Fusoya swept by him and began to climb the dais steps.

"Bahamut…it's terrible…" the boy drawled in a monotone. He sounded as if he had been drugged.

"You can fix him for us…right…?" the girl murmured, her eyes still staring straight ahead. Golbez kneeled before her, taking her shoulders and shaking her gently to try to get her to look at him. Her head lolled as her body rocked back and forth, her mouth frozen in mid-sentence.

"Bahamut!" Fusoya cried from above, and Golbez released the girl, clenching his jaw as he raced up the dais steps two at a time. He found Fusoya standing in the center of the starburst, where the shadows from the columns were the densest. In front of him, a statue of an elegant man was raised, dressed in vestal robes with a collar that rose over his lips and ended just below the tip of his aquiline nose. His eyes were obscured by a plated circlet, secured around shoulder-length hair that would have been impossibly straight in real-life.

"Where is he?" Golbez asked, and Fusoya nodded toward the statue. Golbez's eyebrows rose in confusion.

"He's been petrified? Can't you cast Esuna?"

"No," Fusoya sighed. "It's much worse than that. It appears that he's been chained in another dimension...both his body and soul. The man you see before you here is nothing but a husk…there is absolutely nothing my magic can do."

Golbez didn't know what to say. He peered down the stairs toward the children, who were both now staring at them wordlessly.

"And these children…?"

"His guardians. His eyes and ears of the cave. He created them from his own flesh – he's both their mother and their father, and they are an extension of his body. With his life force tethered elsewhere, I fear they haven't much longer to live, either. As you can see, their nervous systems have already started to fail. His influence over this sacred place is fading away…I can't imagine how long he's been like this."

"No…!" Golbez growled, shaking his head. "How could something like this happen?"

Fusoya stared at the ground. "If _Bahamut_ could be captured from right under our noses..."

"…Then the rest of the eidolons could have been captured as well…!?" Golbez finished, and he nodded.

"We need to hurry to the crystal palace. I fear for the crystals…if that girl was the one who did this to Bahamut, then he _should_ have been revived by now. Something more sinister than I thought is afoot."

"Right," Golbez nodded. "Can you use Teleport to take us back?"

* * *

Fusoya's Teleport magic deposited the two of them into the crystal chamber of the palace, where they were greeted by a swath of darkness. Golbez wasted no time as he rushed from crystal to crystal, pressing his palms to each one, only to be greeted by the chill of lifeless glass. Fusoya did the same on the other side of the chamber, cursing louder under his breath which each subsequent inspection.

"The crystals! The light has left all of them!" Golbez sighed, and Fusoya pressed his lips together as he slowly backed away from the last crystal, meeting up with Golbez in the middle of the room.

"We were too late…!"

A glimmer of light, similar to what had emitted from their Teleport spell when they made their arrival, burst to life before them. Stepping out of the swirl of dying white and blue sparks was the mysterious girl from the meteor, her eyes flashing as she took in Golbez and Fusoya's disconsolate forms.

"You...!" Golbez snarled, immediately withdrawing his sword and pressing the curved point of his blade against her throat. She blinked at him dimly as if to say _"Now what?"_ and not bothering to move out of the way.

"You're still alive!?" Fusoya gasped, and the girl gave a half-shrug, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she reached up and pushed Golbez's blade away with her bare hand with a startling amount of strength that made his muscles throb in protest. He watched as she nonchalantly lowered her hand, which was now glistening with blood from where she had carelessly handled the blade. She let the ruby droplets fall to the crystal tiles on the floor – drip, drip, drip…

"You have my gratitude for leading me here," she cooed.

Golbez stared at his feet – he could see his legs were trembling. "What? No… No...!"

"You were following us this entire time?" Fusoya hissed, and she chose to ignore the question, turning instead to walk up to one of the crystals and inspecting it before nodding to herself.

"Now we have everything we need."

Fusoya marched up to her, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to spin around and face them. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"We still need to settle a few things with you!" Golbez snapped, stepping forward and grabbing her by the nape of her neck as he pressed his sword into her chest. He leaned in close, growling into her ear. "Tell us who you are, and what business you have with the crystals!"

The mysterious girl rolled her eyes to look up at him, licking her lips as a giggle escaped.

"I believe that even someone like you, who has more muscles than brains, knows better than to think I'll answer a question like that. Why don't you take it up with my friend Leviathan, instead? You need to answer for what you did to poor Asura, after all." Her body once again took on the familiar yellow light, and Golbez and Fusoya were tossed away from her, both dropping to the floor as she raised her hand and became surrounded by gold and jade crystal spheres. Fusoya groaned as he dragged himself up from the floor with his staff, bowing his head as a powerful gale of rain-splattered wind rushed through the crystal chamber.

"Golbez, Leviathan is one of the most powerful eidolons – second only to Bahamut!"

"Right – so what's the plan?" Golbez coughed up a mouthful of water that had assaulted his mouth as he spoke, gagging on the briny taste that made his tongue turn to sandpaper. Lifting his head from the floor, he could see a serpentine shadow emerging from the light of the crystalline spheres, rising waves of water crashing into the crystal daises in front of them. If this kept up, they would be flooded out of the palace before they could even raise their weapons. The mysterious girl smiled serenely, rising into the air as a torrent of water brushed over the hem of her gown.

"He's the Lord of the Seas – which means he's weak to the Thunder element. That's our only chance."

Leviathan's earth-shaking roar announced his arrival – another tidal wave preceded him, rising high to the chamber's ceiling and crashing into Golbez and Fusoya, knocking them both back to the floor and sending them flying into the tightly-sealed ivory French doors that led to the throne room. The Lord of the Seas emerged from the sea spray, a periwinkle and pearl-scaled sea snake whose red-tipped dragon's snout brushed the chamber ceiling as he let out another warning howl, his slender jaw lined with rows of triangle-shaped silver teeth. His wiry whiskers fluttered as his mouth snapped shut, transparent red and violet fins fluttering on the rear of his maw as he curled into a spiral and launched himself into wall behind Fusoya and Golbez, unleashing a storm of crystal and stone from above.

"Protect!" Fusoya cried, bobbing up from the pool of water just in time to erect a golden shield over his and Golbez's heads, the rubble bouncing off with a "clang" and splashing into the water. Golbez surfaced, spitting out a stream of water and grinding the stinging sensation out of his eyes as he gasped for breath, his hair and cape swaying behind him.

 _I'm never going to get a damn spell out if this water keeps dragging me under._

He signaled to Fusoya that he was climbing to higher ground, turning and swimming to the nearest crystal dais to his left. He hauled himself up the stairs, which were already half-covered in water, and sheathed his sword, pressing his palms together as he began to chant under his breath. Leviathan twirled around in the water, his jaw snapping hungrily as he locked his milky eyes on Golbez and made his approach, another tidal wave gathering behind him.

Taking advantage of the distraction and the receding water that was being drawn into Leviathan's next assault, Fusoya scrambled to the corner nearest to him on the right, pressing his back to the wall and pointing his staff toward Leviathan's retreating form.

"Thundaga!"

A vein of blinding white light erupted from above, smashing into Leviathan and igniting his form in a storm of sparks and swirling smoke. He began to seize violently, his teeth gnashing in protest only inches away from Golbez. Golbez narrowed his eyes, ignoring the searing-hot froth sputtering from Leviathan's maw that was hitting him in the face.

"Thundaga!"

Golbez's spell struck both Leviathan and the mysterious girl, who wasn't anticipating being targeted with much bigger fish for her adversaries to fry – literally. She fell from the sky with a shriek, plummeting into the choppy, rising water with a heavy splash, while Leviathan collapsed into the crystal dais Golbez had been commanding, crushing it to dust under his weight as the light at last faded from his eyes.

Golbez leapt from the crumbling dais, using Leviathan's head as a launch pad to propel himself to the rear of the chamber. Withdrawing his ebony blade in mid-air, he plunged his sword into the water as he fell, and could feel the warm, sickening suction of his weapon connecting with his target. A geyser of red bubbled to the surface, and as the storm water finally began to subside with Leviathan's defeat, the mysterious girl's corpse came into view, her eyes once again frozen open in disbelieving shock, Golbez's black steel blade plunged cleanly through her stomach. The front of her white dress had become dyed a pale red, his sword a makeshift pistil of the morbid bloom unfurling from her lethal wound.

Fusoya half-waded, half-ran to them, his soaking robes slowing him considerably even as the water drained away. Leviathan's massive form faded into shadow, the crystal chamber once again plunging into darkness. Golbez grimaced as he withdrew his blade, hurriedly wiping the blood away with his cloak before sheathing it. The mysterious girl continued to stare up at him blankly, and Fusoya's shadow fell over the two of them as he finally caught up. He didn't bother checking her pulse – she was clearly dead.

"Is this girl immortal?" Golbez finally asked, his voice cracking with strain. He couldn't tear away his gaze – there was something terrifying and beautiful about how quickly he had taken her this time – how his finely-honed instincts had slowly awoken along with him and had known exactly where to guide his blade. Those had not been gifted by Zemus – they were all his own, part of what had made him the perfect specimen for enacting Zemus' terror.

Fusoya watched Golbez warily, purposely taking a step forward to put himself between his nephew and the girl. His line of sight broken, Golbez blinked, shrinking back slightly as Fusoya pursed his lips, his watery blue eyes creased. "I cannot say, but there is one thing of which I am certain, now. The Blue Planet's crystals are in peril."

Golbez looked away, his fingers clenching into a fist. That had been the absolute last thing he had ever wanted Fusoya to be sure about. _Cecil!_

Fusoya sighed, taking a long look around the darkened crystal chamber and shaking his head. "I fear we have no other choice. I will call for the Lunar Whale."

"What?" Golbez frowned. "Wait…that's my father's ship, right? I thought it was buried on the Blue Planet."

"We must attune our crystals with the Lunar Whale's flight crystal," Fusoya said softly. "They may no longer have light, but I think there is another way."

"How?"

"By the power of our prayers."

 _My prayers?!_ Golbez could feel his knees start to shake. _My prayers will do you no good…the crystals refuse to resonate with the darkness in my heart…our final confrontation with Zemus proved that much!_ He recalled how seventeen years prior Fusoya had handed him the ninth crystal – the only crystal the Lunarians had been able to save from their destroyed planet – ordering him to unleash the light that would force Zemus to reveal his true form. But when Golbez had held the crystal aloft, praying with all the strength he had left – nothing had happened. The crystal had remained dead, and Zemus had taunted him, explaining that the crystal would shed no light for someone who had treaded the path of darkness. The crystal had only responded to one person that nightmarish night – the holy paladin, and heir to their father's will, Cecil Harvey.

"Golbez!" Fusoya barked, and Golbez opened his eyes. He hadn't realized he had let himself drown in his own thoughts – his uncle was glaring up at him, flecks of crimson pulsing in his stare. "The crystals put their trust in you when they woke you from stasis – you have to do this with me. This ship was your father's legacy – and by rights, it's yours now. I can't do it alone."

Golbez nodded, pressing his palms together. _I'm terrified I won't have enough power to save us…but what other choice do I have?_

"…Yes, Fusoya!"

"Follow my lead," Fusoya said, this time in a much gentler tone. He tugged Golbez to the center of the chamber, sinking to his knees and bowing his head. Golbez kneeled alongside him, bowing his head too and glancing at Fusoya out of the corner of his eye. Fusoya met his gaze, nodding.

"That's good. Now, clear your mind, and let your heart become vulnerable and unguarded. Say whatever first comes to mind – you can speak aloud, or meditate. What's important is that you are resolute – no matter what, always seek the light!"

"G-Got it…" Golbez swallowed, closing his eyes. His palms slick with sweat, he threaded his fingers together to keep his hands from slipping, touching his chin to his chest. He could feel his heart thrashing uncontrollably, a trail of perspiration running down the back of his ear to the curve of his neck.

 _Crystals of the moon…please help us find my father's ship…we no longer have the luxury of time._ Golbez shifted his weight, trying not to focus on the sharp pain the glass floor imparted on his bare knees. Fusoya was eerily silent beside him, but he did not dare open his eyes, fearing his thin thread of concentration would be promptly snipped. He swallowed again, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth as he pushed back the first tinges of acid that had risen from his stomach.

 _This is hopeless. How can a child of shadow possibly call upon the grace of the crystals?_ He could feel a sob rising in his throat – he clenched his jaw, squeezing his fingers so tightly that his nails dug into his knuckles. _The only light I've ever believed in was_ _ **his**_ _– I would follow him to the depths of the hell if it meant reveling in that holy radiance one last time._

 _Cecil, the eternal light to my perpetual darkness…it's been you I've been seeking, ever since that damnable day I abandoned you in Baron – the day I gave my fully gave my heart to Zemus._

A loud crash rang out, causing both men to drop their hands and look over their shoulders. The crystal in the dais behind them had shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces, glittering rain sprinkling over their stunned forms. Golbez jumped to his feet, racing to the dais and letting out an agitated wail as he scooped a small pile of crystal dust into his shaking hands.

 _No…no! Please tell me it wasn't my tainted prayers that did this!?_

"W-What happened!?" Fusoya gasped. Crystal shards crunched into the floor, a bone-chilling screech tearing through the chamber as a girl identical to the corpse at the foot of the dais appeared, wordlessly shuffling through the remains of the crystal as she kneeled next to her slain twin. She pressed her cheek against her hand, staring down at the body confusedly.

"There's more than one of her!" Golbez cried, letting the crystal dust fall from his fingers. The mysterious girl glared up at him, and then quickly whipped around to face Fusoya, who had approached her from behind with his staff raised. She smirked, scooping the dead girl into her arms as if she were weightless and leaping high into the air out of their reach, a pair of translucent angel wings affixed to her shoulders.

"I need none of this any longer. Neither the crystals," she glared at the shattered crystal remains, letting out a short hiss when her eyes fell over Golbez, "…Nor _you_."

"What?" Fusoya glowered. "Just how many of you are there?"

"Irrelevant," she snapped, disappearing in a portal of light.

"She's gone!" Fusoya cried, cursing as he slammed his staff into the floor. "But what did she mean by…" He trailed off, his eyes clenching shut as if he were overtaken by a sudden spate of pain. His hand flew to his chest, clenching his robes as he gritted his teeth. "Oh no… That girl…she's after our comrades in stasis!"

"What!?" Golbez flew down the steps of the dais, pulling Fusoya against him. "Are you OK? What's happening?"

"I'll…I'll be fine…" Fusoya shook his head, taking a deep breath but allowing himself to fall against Golbez's shoulder. "But I am attuned to the Lunar Core where we sleep – she is trying to tear the dimensional walls apart as we speak. If we don't stop her…she'll kill every last one of them. She knows that as long as even one Lunarian stands, it will be a fight for her to obtain the crystals."

A delicate cracking sound caught both their attentions. To their right, a crystal had begun to shake violently, hairline fractures blooming over the surface. Fusoya winced, shaking his head.

"And the crystals in turn, help protect the Lunarians…if they all shatter, there will be nothing you or I can do to keep her out of the Lunar Core. We have to stop her before the last crystal…" At that moment, the next crystal shattered without warning, another spray of crystal debris pouring over them. Fusoya doubled over, another cry ripping from his throat as his staff clattered to the floor. Golbez shook his head, grabbing hold of Fusoya's staff and shoving it back in the old man's hands.

"Then we have to get to the moon's core now!" Golbez cried. "Do you have enough strength to use Teleport one last time?"

"I'll get us as far as I can," Fusoya groaned, trying to stand under his own power once again by using his staff as support. "No matter what, don't let go of me – if we get separated, there will be no time to seek each other out!"

"Right!" Golbez nodded, taking hold of Fusoya's arm. He closed his eyes, preparing for the stomach-turning journey that would hurdle them through time and space. Just before the floor fell out from beneath his feet, he heard the distant jingle of another crystal meeting its end.

 _Five left…_

* * *

Golbez felt himself crash into something cold and hard, the hilt of his sword digging painfully into his back as he bounced into what he could only assume was a cavern floor. Slowly opening his eyes, he found himself in the tunnel of the Lunar Subterrane that was just outside the entrance to the Lunar Core. Glancing down at his legs to check for injuries, he found that he had been dropped into the path of footprints Cecil and the others had left behind, now smeared into a pile of dust that was the shape of his backside and legs.

Fusoya was rising a few feet away from him, shaking his head as he turned to Golbez and clutched his staff.

"I could feel it as we fell…another crystal has shattered…I got distracted, and we landed here…"

 _Four left…_

"It's OK," Golbez said quickly, scrambling to his feet. "The Lunar Core is just a short walk away, now. You need to recover your mana – cast Osmose on me, and drain mine so you can replenish yourself."

Fusoya raised a forked eyebrow, and gave Golbez a swift knock on the shoulder with his staff.

"Ow!" Golbez hissed. "What was that for?"

"I'm not as weak as I look, young man – I'll be fine. I'm not going to become a parasite that feeds off his nephew. Let's just hurry."

"Young man…" Golbez muttered. "Compared to you, maybe."

They rushed into the Lunar Core – just the nearby presence of the sleeping Lunarians only a few floors below filled Golbez with a mystifying adrenaline that made him feel as if he could directly tap into the essence of the Red Moon itself. He realized it had been similar to the feeling that had driven him to the surface of the moon in the first place – when the crystals had been calling to him, transmitting their fears into his very heart with each pulse of the ruby light.

 _This is truly where I belong, no matter what I may wish for in the shadows of my heart. If the Lunar Whale appears, Fusoya will need to go alone – I can't ever set foot on the Blue Planet again._

Just as they reached the rune that would take them to the next layer of the core, Golbez and Fusoya both paused, twin pangs discharging in their chests as the sound of glass shattering vibrated in the distance.

"Another crystal…!" they murmured in unison, their eyes meeting before moving to the rune and transporting to the next floor.

 _Three left…_

On each subsequent layer, an additional crystal shattered – despite falling deeper into the moon's core, the sounds of the crystals' annihilation got louder and more distinct – Golbez could even swear he heard the crystals screaming in agony. By the time they reached the final layer that would grant them access to the sleeping Lunarians, the second-to-last crystal had shattered, leaving them with just one more and no sign of the mysterious girl anywhere. Fusoya had quickly teleported into the first sleeping dimension to make a sweep for the mysterious girl, but it did not appear that she had been able to force herself inside. As he made his return, he stumbled through the light of the portal he had opened, his eyes wild as he shook his head.

"No sign of her…!"

"Perhaps it's for the best that she did not make it this far yet," Golbez frowned. "Maybe we have reached them in time. We still have one crystal left…if we pray…"

"…It may be able to hold her back a little while longer," Fusoya nodded. "Good idea…"

* * *

The light had nearly all but faded in the tiny shrine atop Mount Ordeals. The northern mirrored wall had been shattered into thousands of pieces, some the size of tiny daggers, and some ground into dust, all strewn along the footprint and blood-ridden floors. The three opposite walls of the shrine, embedded in budding crystals that pulsed in rainbow light with the rhythm of a beating heart, had dulled to a murky gray – reflecting only the swirling oblivion that lay beyond the shattered mirror.

A quiet voice whispered from within the darkness, even though there were no longer any living souls to bear its lament – the dragoon had fled, and the white mage and her companions had followed. For the briefest of moments, the shrine became alight in brilliance once more, the shattered mirror shards sparkling like diamonds in a goddess' crown.

 _"I shall pray as well, my sons!"_

* * *

 _Mysidia_

Porom peered outside the window facing south, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the glaring sun. At first she thought the Elder had been watching the twin moons, the new arrival seemingly larger than it was yesterday, but his chin was tilted down, his palms pressed against the glass. "Elder…?"

"The dragon…it's crying," the Elder rasped, his voice weakened. Porom frowned, redirecting her gaze toward the shoreline instead. Even from their distance high in the tower, she could see the white waves of the ocean churning with agitation, swirls of water crashing into each other in the early beginnings of a vortex.

"What!?" Porom gasped, smashing her face against the glass. The vortex gradually began to widen, and there was a tremendous crash that ripped through the sky – it sounded like thunder, but the skies were still crystal-clear. A massive black and glowing red curved vessel emerged from the water, steadily rising in the air and casting a dark, twisting shadow upon the churning seas.

* * *

Golbez and Fusoya felt the holy light singe their eyelids before the rest of it washed over them, flushing their faces with fever. Golbez felt as if a pair of strangely familiar, protective arms had wrapped around him from behind, a head pressing against his as a hand rested upon his heart.

"Father…?" Golbez murmured, unfolding his hands and pressing his fingers over the spot on his chest where he had felt the concentration of warmth, his eyes still closed. "Is that…?"

"…Kluya!" Fusoya gasped, and Golbez felt the sting of tears threatening to spill. His eyes snapped open, and the light faded away – he was still in the final layer of the Lunar Core, kneeling next to Fusoya. Fusoya's eyes opened as well, and he turned to Golbez – he could see a solitary tear running down his uncle's craggy cheek.

"My father…why has he…" Golbez began, but gasped for air as his stomach suddenly contracted; feeling like someone had just planted a boot in his gut. Fusoya's eyes widened and he stumbled to his feet wordlessly, spinning to face the rear of the chamber. Golbez cursed under his breath, grinding his teeth as he pulled himself up as well, still clenching his stomach as the now-familiar ringing noise exploded in his ears. It sounded as if someone had shoved an entire cabinet of china down a flight of stairs.

"The last crystal has shattered!" Golbez groaned, and Fusoya lowered his head.

"No…Kluya…what is the meaning of all this…?"

The floor beneath their feet began to tremble viciously, and Golbez had to clutch onto a pillar to keep from falling over. "What's going on!? Is she here…?"

A thunderclap rang out from above, a deafening crash of flying crystal from the rear of the chamber sending debris straight for Golbez and Fusoya. Golbez dove forward just in time, shoving Fusoya to the ground before a particularly sharp slab of crystal tile ran him through like a gutted fish. Erupting from the crash site was a twisting furnace of black flame, quickly spiraling to three times their combined heights and shooting through the ceiling to the next level of the Lunar Core. Fusoya lifted his head, his eyes narrowed as Golbez rolled off of him.

"This is much worse than our new friend – there's no doubt about it. The crystals are gone...which means there's nothing left to hold _him_ back any longer!"

Golbez turned, raising his eyebrows. There was only one "him" that the crystals had ever played a role in sealing away in the Red Moon's history. "Zemus? No, Zemus is dead but…Zeromus!?"

Fusoya nodded. "If we fail, both we Lunarians and the Blue Planet will have no hope left. You understand what needs to be done, right Golbez?"

"Of course!" Golbez frowned. "But this time, I intend to _finish_ what I started."

 _Besides…Cecil isn't here to save you, this time._

They both climbed to their feet, watching silently as the fiery cyclone began to stretch and warp, a pair of bloody red tentacle-ridden claws stepping out before the rest of him followed. Zeromus's ivory exoskeleton housed a macabre collection of twisted masses of throbbing, ropy, cobalt blue muscles that were mostly left exposed, save for bone wrapped around his head, arms, torso and rib cage. His spine was bent sharply, a steep curve between his rib cage and the arch of an over-sized hump and brain cavity, melded together. Two arms and blackened, half-rotted fins had sprouted just above his jumbled rib cage; his arms fitted with protruding spikes and tapered claws. Haphazardly growing out of pockets of hollowed-out bone throughout his body were large, watery blue orbs – it was hard to tell if they were eyes, leaking sores, or served some other terrifying purpose.

"Ugly as ever, I see," Golbez mused aloud. "But I seem to remember you looking just a little more full of life last time…guess the past seventeen years have not been treating you well, eh?"

Zeromus let out a gurgling hiss in reply, swinging one of his massive claws as he lumbered forward. Both Fusoya and Golbez leapt back, nodding to each other.

"Prepare to give all your power to Meteor, Golbez – we'll Twincast!"

"Right!"

The two men dashed off in opposite directions to buy time – Zeromus would get confused about whom to follow first – he had seemingly traded in any sentient thought for those piles of tentacles and muscles. Golbez slid behind a crystal pillar, closing his eyes and folding his hands beneath his chest. He had to trust that Fusoya would come through with healing magic after the fact if something were to happen to him – he had to power through the complex set of incantations for Meteor with no interruptions if their Twincast was to be successful, and stay in perfect sync with Fusoya at the same time.

On the other side of the chamber, Fusoya hid behind a pillar of his own, sliding his eyes shut and picturing Golbez in his mind's eye. He could see his nephew across the chamber, bowing his head and starting his portion of the spell. Fusoya began to chant as well, his pale skin taking on an orange hue as the magic started to ignite every nerve ending in his body, his mana churning into overdrive.

 _Kluya – if you're still here, I need any strength you are willing to lend me…I'll do whatever it takes to save your son…and our people!_

Zeromus snarled as he turned left, finally deciding that it was Golbez he wanted to take out first. His massive frame and clumsy footsteps made the entire Lunar Core shake, with Golbez stumbling to his knees. Ignoring the rising panic that was clutching his chest, Golbez kept his eyes glued shut, concentrating on the picture he was painting in his mind – the heavens torn asunder, thousands of stars bending to his will, the ultimate destructive power of the cosmos his to manipulate with blood-stained hands…

Zeromus tore the column Golbez had been hiding behind out of the floor, snapping it in half with an angry roar and tossing the pieces to the floor, which subsequently shattered and turned into a gaping, starlit chasm. Golbez inwardly clenched as he felt Zeromus' claw wrap around him, plucking him from the ground and squeezing so hard that he swore he heard a couple ribs snap. The pain was breathtaking, and he could see spots of black bleeding into his mind's creation, like someone had carelessly spilled ink over parchment.

 _No…no…just a little more time…!_

Zeromus lifted Golbez into the air, a twist of ropy tentacles emerging from one of the blue orbs on his chest and wrapping around Golbez's bare legs. He could feel his insides being torn apart as the tentacles and the claws played tug-of-war, stars bursting behind his eyelids as another tentacle slid around his abdomen and forced him to expel all of the oxygen from his body. Alarm bells exploded in his head, a tiny voice gasping as the air rushed out of his lungs.

 _"Brother… Where are you…? It's so dark…"_

 _"Cecil…!"_

An explosion of crystal blue filled Golbez's vision, and the first meteor plummeted from the sky, smashing into Zeromus's back and forcing him to drop the sorcerer. Golbez fell through the chasm, his fingers clutching the jagged ledge as fiery wreckage from the first meteor strike rained upon him from above. Hundreds more meteors followed in its wake, the chamber igniting with starlight and flame as Zeromus was beaten backwards away from the chasm, stumbling on his bony haunches and falling on his back with an earth-shaking crash.

"Damn!" Golbez cried, his fingers slipping from the impact. He was left with just his right hand grasping the ledge, his fingers slowly sliding down the remainder of the glass tile. He tried to swing his arm back up, but the stabbing in his sides had become too much – he could feel shards of bone piercing his lungs with every little movement, every attempt to breathe.

"Float!"

A pair of angel wings fluttered over Golbez's shoulder blades, gently lifting him from the chasm and guiding him away from Zeromus and the meteor shower. Golbez let his arms drop to his sides in relief, tears stinging the corners of his eyes as the blood rushed back through his limbs, bringing with it a new wave of agony. Fusoya appeared from behind a pillar, his eyes flashing as he raised his staff and cast another spell.

"Curaja!"

Golbez slumped to his knees in mid-air as the soothing rainbow light embraced his form, gold sparks exploding in his vision. He could feel his body mending itself from the inside out, deft fingers of light weaving his torn muscles back together and fusing bone back to bone.

"We did it…" Fusoya muttered, promptly collapsing to the floor.

"Fusoya!" Golbez gasped, his eyes snapping open. "You've overworked yourself…" He crawled to his uncle's side, pressing his fingers to his wrist. A faint pulse fluttered – he was still alive, but his mana was shot. Golbez's Float spell faded away, and he gently fell to the floor, pulling Fusoya against him.

 _I can try to take him to the stasis pods…he'll be able to rest there…if the mysterious girl comes; I'll take her on myself._

"I...cannot be destroyed..."

A gurgling, growling voice rose from the battered mountain of putrid meat and bone that Zeromus had become, the last of the meteors having made their landing. Golbez lowered his head as a rush of lightning-laced gales cut through them like razor blades, throwing his body over Fusoya's and biting his tongue with each fresh slice he felt opening on his newly-healed skin.

Zeromus laughed as the winds whipped into a frenzy, lightning strikes randomly crashing into the floor all around them – Golbez figured it was only a matter of time before they were hit, and he wasn't too confident about his ability to survive an impromptu electrocution.

"Gah ha ha…Evil...is evolution...at its _purest_!"

"Fusoya, we have to get out of here," Golbez hissed over the whirlwind. "Tell me the spell to get to the pods…"

Fusoya slowly opened his eyes, peering up at his nephew's worried grimace. "It is time, Golbez."

Golbez blinked. "Time for what? We're in the middle of something…the battle isn't over quite yet."

Fusoya's eyes filled with crimson light. He suddenly reached up, grasping Golbez's face in both of his hands with a surprising burst of strength, his lips curling in a sad smile. "To the Blue Planet!"

"Fusoya...!" Golbez cried, trying to yank away. "No…!" But it was too late – Golbez was swallowed by a pillar of light, Fusoya's now-empty hands dropping to the floor as Zeromus's roars of laughter rolled over his still form, drawing him into his storm like the tides of the Blue Planet.

* * *

 _The Lunar Core, 17 years prior_

"We must go now, and sleep. We will pray for the peace of your planet." Fusoya turned to Golbez. "Come, let us go. I'll be your guide."

Golbez turned away from Cecil, and nodded to Fusoya. "Yes..." They began to walk away, Golbez lowering his head.

 _Can I really do this? Banish myself into sleep for gods knows how long? It's possible I may not see him again…he could be even long-dead before I awaken…_

 _But the thought of going back to that planet, where I've done so much irreparable harm…where I've destroyed so many precious lives…_

 _No, I deserve this…I deserve to suffer, to repent…to be branded a coward the rest of my days._

Rosa leaned in, whispering – but her voice still carried in the empty crystalline hall as if she had shouted. "Cecil…!"

 _Rosa – Forgive me for ensnaring you in my traps, just to get to Cecil…I pray that you two can move past everything that has been done, and are able to find the true happiness you both deserve._

Kain frowned. "Is this all right – letting him go?"

 _Kain – I destroyed your friendship with Cecil, and drove a wedge between you from which you may never be able to fully recover…I'll never quite understand why it was I chose you, but…I have a theory that my own innate jealousy played a role…even if I didn't realize it at the time._

"You're brothers!" Rydia hissed.

 _Rydia – If I hadn't placed Cagnazzo on Baron's throne in place of their rightful king, Cecil and Kain would have never been sent to Mist – they would have never murdered your mother, or destroyed your village…an entire legacy of summoners, snuffed out by my guiding hand._

Without looking back, Golbez raised a single hand in the air. "Farewell."

Fusoya opened a transparent portal, and stepped inside, disappearing from sight. Golbez paused for a moment, the reality of his decision sinking deep into his core, turning his boots to lead…but even so, he started to walk forward again.

 _I can never go back…not after all I've done._

"Cecil!" Edge touched his shoulder. "Make sure this is what you want… Just really be _sure_."

 _Edge – I left Rubicante to his own devices and allowed him to murder and desecrate your parents… It was never any concern of mine what was done to obtain access to the Tower of Babil, but now my lack of interest will haunt me for the rest of my days. I can't say I would have done anything less horrific…it's the same sin either way._

Golbez reached the portal, taking a deep breath as he prepared to leap inside. He heard the sound of hurried footsteps from behind, and Cecil's exhausted voice calling out.

"Farewell...my brother."

Golbez looked over his shoulder to Cecil. His little brother was only a few feet away, his hand raised in the air in a half-wave. His crystalline eyes were watering, and his lower lip was stained red from where he had been clearly gnawing on it. Golbez wished, more than anything, he could show his true face to Cecil – but a paralyzing fear deep within stopped him from reaching up to remove his helmet. Even with as much retribution as he was prepared to face for his sins, the thought of his little brother being able to associate his true guise with the terror he had inflicted upon him and his planet was still too much, too soon.

He realized there was only one gift he _could_ give to Cecil before he departed – a small piece of the puzzle that would unlock his past, should he ever wish to pursue it. And if he didn't – well, Golbez thought that was a fine choice as well. Cecil had been raised in an entirely different world than he, after all – maybe he didn't _want_ to unearth the ghosts of a life that had been stolen away from him.

Golbez swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

"Her name was Cecilia…our mother. And you have her eyes."

Before Cecil could reply, and before he could convince himself to turn around and run back to the people whose lives he had destroyed, Golbez stepped into the portal, letting the darkness and starlight devour his form.

 _Thank you… Brother._

* * *

 _The Giant of Babil, 17 years prior_

"Awaken!"

A gentle spark of light burst to life from mid-air and encircled Golbez, climbing the length of his body until it reached his chest, and plunging through the armored breastplate that protected his heart. Golbez let out a wail and fell to his knees, clutching his head and seizing violently – he had lost all control of his body, and felt as if his bones were about to leap out of his skin. _"N-NOOOOOOO!"_

Fusoya climbed to his feet, but Cecil was stunned by Golbez's screams and could not bring himself to do the same. Golbez dropped his hands from his head to the floor, gasping for breath as he attempted to push himself up onto his hands and knees. This armor…it was so heavy…excruciatingly so…why in gods' name was he wearing it? Why, until just a moment ago, had he wanted to reach out and snap Cecil's neck in his bare hands?

The last thing he remembered was being in bed…no, falling to the floor…in terrible, wretched pain…cerulean eyes flashing above him, bathed in moonlight…

"Why? Why was I so consumed by hate?" he inhaled and exhaled unsteadily, feeling as if he had just been drowned and resuscitated in quick succession. Fusoya approached him, picking up his discarded staff and tapping it on the floor next to Golbez's bowed head.

"You've regained your sense then. Do you...do you remember your father's name?"

Golbez looked up at Fusoya, a man he was pretty sure he had never seen before, yet he recognized like an old friend – surely he was one, if he was asking about his father? Golbez shakily rose to one knee, his eyes desperately seeking Cecil's, even though he couldn't quite understand why. Cecil met his gaze, glaring at him hatefully, and Golbez noticed his fingers were readied on his sword.

"My father... His name was Kluya."

* * *

 _The Crystal Chamber at Giott's Castle, 17 years prior_

"Ha ha ha ha!" Golbez burst out laughing. "That is all the power you possess? A pity…" He waved his hand again, casting Hold on Cecil and his pathetic adversaries – including that traitorous wench, Kain Highwind. The four of them slumped to the floor before him, golden beams of light wrapped around them like rope as they screamed in their throats – their jaws had been frozen shut, denying them any release.

"Your eyes should still be free," Golbez sneered. "Open them, and gaze upon true terror! Come forth, my creature of shadow!"

A thick black and navy fog began to rise out of mirrored floors beneath them, slowly spiraling its way up in the air to form the shape of a wiry creature. Long, tapered claws emerged from the fog, followed by a snout filled with glistening yellow teeth dripping with a neon green poison. At last, the rest of the head and scaly body formed – a Shadow Dragon, live in the flesh, one of the most terrifying monsters in existence – Golbez had been looking for an ideal opportunity to show off his new pet.

The dragon let out a roar, fixing its ruby eyes first on Kain, and with a snap of its jaws, spat poison in his face. Kain immediately passed out; Golbez's spell of paralysis broken as the dragoon's body smacked the glass floor of the crystal chamber.

The shadow dragon made its way down the line of prey, knocking out Yang, and then Rosa. After what felt like an eternity, it focused its gaze on Cecil, and Cecil closed his eyes, the fear clutching him so tightly now that he thought he might pass out on his own before the poison even hit.

Golbez cocked his head to the side, a smile on his lips. His gaze locked once more on that piercing, cerulean blue – this time, he felt none of the confusion and pain from before…whatever momentary madness had seized him in the Tower of Zot was now past. He was filled with nothing but glee this little game of cat and mouse would come to an end – for good.

"Farewell, Cecil…"

A loud, agonized cry reverberated through the crystal chamber, a spell of cold air filling the room and leaving behind dancing white particles that sparkled vexatiously in the air. Golbez whirled around in the direction of the wind, a gasp escaping his lips.

A translucent white, spiked tail swatted back and forth angrily, attached to a dragon with pearl scales, a long, slender neck, and eyes the color of the blue crystals of the Overworld. Swirling around it, trailing in and out of its nostrils as it breathed, was the same chilling mist that had suddenly filled the crystal chamber.

The dragon let out another cry and thrashed its head, the mist pouring out of its mouth and embracing the shadow dragon. The shadow dragon let out a shriek that was so loud, the mirrored walls began to shatter, shooting shards of glass everywhere. The mist, upon making contact with the shadow dragon's scales, began to smoke and burn with holy blue light. The fire completely enveloped the shadow dragon and it fell, screaming, dissolving back into black, repugnant fog that sank to the floor. Golbez was dumbstruck – his eyes never left the swirling black mist at his feet as he muttered to himself.

"An _Eidolon_ …my shadow dragon, slain by mere mist…!"

There was the sound of a cracking whip, and Cecil, who had been spared just in time from the Shadow Dragon's poison, suddenly fell forward, released from his paralysis. A gentle female voice called out, sending a shiver of fear down Golbez's spine. _Where had he heard that voice before…?_

"It's all right. You can move now!"

A flash of emerald green leapt from behind Cecil and landed on the back of the white dragon…

* * *

 _The Tower of Zot, 17 years prior_

"Tellah!" Cecil cried. "Stop! You've won!"

The elderly man wheezed for breath even as he continued chanting, leaning upon his staff as Golbez attempted to peel himself from the floor, having just been assaulted by a trio of admittedly powerful magic spells. He climbed to one knee, not able to help but giggle when he took in the look of horror on Cecil's face. It would seem that the newly-minted paladin could see the writing on the wall as plainly as he – old man Tellah was on his last legs.

"Ha ha ha!" Golbez laughed, punching his fist into the floor in an attempt to mask struggle he had in maintaining his balance. _Let's finish this – the old bastard's ego is out of control. All I have to do is get him to finish this spell, and the effort will take him out of commission. If Firaga, Blizzaga and Thundaga are the best he can do, then this last attempt is going to feel like a tickle fight._

"Feeble old man…what can you hope to do to me?"

Tellah stopped chanting, and the room fell eerily silent. From what felt like very far away, both Cecil and Golbez could hear a faint whistle – strangely foreign from the ticking and mechanical static that usually filled the Tower of Zot.

"Meteor's time has come at last," Tellah breathed raggedly, raising his staff into the air and stretching his arms wide. "At long, long last, I will avenge my Anna!"

 _…Meteor? No…that can't be…that senile coot has no idea what he is talking about._

"No Tellah, you musn't!" Cecil cried, throwing himself at Tellah but being blown backwards like a child tossing away a toy. The sage had protected himself with a magic shield so that no one could interfere.

"You'll be the one it destroys!" Yang pleaded, joining Cecil's attempt but also stymied by the barrier.

"So be it!" Tellah growled, looking over at his friends. Cecil had dragged quite the motley crew along with him for this expedition – the same high monk who had tried to get in his way in Fabul, an engineer hailing from Baron, and the ever-annoying old man whose daughter had apparently been collateral damage in Damcyan – _whoops._

The glasses on Tellah's face had cracked, revealing two tired, tear-rimmed, soft gray eyes. His gaze focused on Cecil's a heartbeat longer, and then he turned away toward Golbez. "Let my life fuel the spell…that ends HIS!"

"Noooo, you fool!" Cid screamed. "Stop this!"

The whistling from earlier suddenly became ear-piercingly louder. The atmosphere above them darkened to a sickly black-brown, swirling into a miniature spiral galaxy. It was so large, that it made it appear as if the ceiling had been blown away above them. Golbez clenched his jaw as he stared, a funny feeling clawing at his stomach as his knees gave out, and he sank back to the floor.

 _Impossible…! How could he…!?_

Hundreds of flaming, glittering meteors began to pour from the galaxy's center, each one striking Golbez with the force of an airship, tossing and battering his body from all angles like a rag doll. At first, he was shaken numb by being rattled about inside his cage of armor, but when _that_ started cracking and shattering, a fresh wave of searing pain and blistering burns washed over his now exposed-flesh, sending him into shock. When the last meteor struck, the barren white room returned to its normal sterile atmosphere, minus the majority of the lights that had been blown to smithereens from the fallout. Golbez fell on his face to the floor, his still in-tact, but cracked, helmet ringing achingly against his ears. His thoughts were racing a million miles per hour through his mind, but he could only manage to slur one stupid question.

"Im…impossible! You – how could someone like YOU know Meteor?"

Tellah responded by collapsing in a heap of robes, his staff clattering across the floor and coming to a stop by Golbez's head.

"Tellah!"

Cecil kneeled before the old man, pulling him into his arms and trying to push the fried, scraggly white hair from his face.

Golbez took a deep breath, banishing the painful effort of thinking and channeling that energy into pulling himself back up to his feet instead, smashing both of his palms against his helmet to weld it back on temporarily. Crushing Tellah's staff underneath his boot as if it were a piece of candy, he extended his hand and created a black teleportation portal.

"Regardless…the Earth Crystal is now mine. Come, Kain."

Kain's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he promptly slumped against the glass wall behind him, his spear falling from his hands as he crashed to the floor. Golbez tilted his head, barking out a laugh. _Great, just great…_

"So…the old man's interference severed my hold over you. No matter. Your purpose is served. Just do not think that this affront will be forgiven."

Cecil held Tellah closer and pointed his blade at Golbez. Yang had his claws extended, and Cid readied his hammer – Cecil's minions had surrounded him while he had been distracted by Kain's foolishness.

"You'll not escape this time, Golbez!" Cecil shouted.

Golbez's gaze left Kain's crumpled form, and he turned back to Cecil, exasperated. "You try my patience." He raised a hand, prepared to end Cecil's life with a Flare spell. He wanted to see the light leave the petulant brat's eyes once and for all and savor every delicious second of it – that would just be a bonus on top of obtaining the fourth crystal. As he stared into Cecil's defiant blue eyes, silently chanting the incantation, he felt the ancient words suddenly choke up in his throat, and he faltered.

"…!?"

"Why…why now stay your hand!?" Cecil demanded, his voice never wavering.

"But…how…" Golbez shook his head, turning away. Cecil's stare had penetrated his mind's eye and muted his tongue. _What_ did those eyes remind him of?

He had such a serene, calming presence…why had Golbez not noticed until now? Was it because he had become a paladin, or…?

 _(Cecilia…)_

 _Wait…who is Cecilia? I don't know a Cecilia… This is Cecil. The enemy...the one_ _ **he**_ _warned me about – the one that will destroy everything we've worked so hard to achieve…!_

Cecil kept staring, daring Golbez with his glare to finish the spell. Golbez finally threw up his hands and rushed into the teleportation portal, before its magic failed him as well. He turned one last time to face Cecil as he disappeared into the void, his voice strained and muffled beneath his helmet.

"We will finish this…another time."

* * *

 _The Fabulian Crystal Chamber, 17 years prior_

Kain twirled his lance in his fingers as he approached Cecil, raising the blade above his head and staring down at his bloodied best friend. Cecil cringed and closed his eyes, the will to fight completely leaving him. He could only pray now that this would end quickly – before anyone else got hurt on his account. Whatever he had done to Kain…he supposed he would have to answer for it in hell.

"Kain, why ever do you hesitate?"

A dark shadow had blocked the light shining through the open doorway to the crystal chamber. The shadow drifted forward as if floating, approaching Cecil and Kain with the demeanor of an emperor. He saw two figures – a young woman with a fountain of blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and a little girl with frizzy green hair and a snarl set across her lips – press deeper back against the wall near the doorway as he passed through.

He knew from the aura of despair that he could practically smell coming off the lot of them that his appearance had elicited a healthy fear from these so-called men. He could see his reflection in the mirrored walls of the crystal chamber, and couldn't help but smile at the attention he commanded just by the minimal effort of crossing a threshold. He was clad in black armor from head to toe, the only thing on his body not black being the glowing yellow orbs that were shining from inside his helmet, like dragon's eyes. Upon his helmet protruded two grotesque black horns that nearly reached the ceiling. A black leather cape dragged on the floor as he stepped forward in metal-cased, spiked boots, and yet he carried his bulk with such a grace that his footsteps made nary a sound.

He approached Kain and a thoroughly defeated dark knight, whom he caught eyeing his onyx-lined gauntlet, the tips of which were sharpened into sharp black points. Reaching out his long, claw-like hand, he made a gesture from Kain's lance down toward the dark knight, and snickered. "He's right there, Kain."

"You must be Golbez, the usurper," the dark knight hissed. The knight's voice was calm and tempered despite the rage Golbez could feel simmering at the surface of the young man's heart – he had an elegant accent clipped with an aristocratic air that made him sound far more accomplished than he probably actually was – after all, what kind of master of the dark blade couldn't take down a mere dragoon?

"And you're, Cecil, I presume", Golbez replied. "I've been anxious to meet you, but I'm afraid our visit is going to have to be cut short." He turned to Kain, smiling with satisfaction at Cecil's jaw hitting the floor. "Never hesitate to kill, Kain. Let me show you how it's done…" He raised his hand, which had begun to glow an ominous purple.

"Cecil!" Edward cried. The cowardly slip of a prince was pressed up against the corner wall of the chamber, shaking like a leaf. Golbez felt a twitch spasm above his eye, regretting that he had let the wretch live – but fine, he would let him see his friends die, and then maybe he would go ahead and finish what he had started in Damcyan, depending on how generous he felt after he got what he came for.

"I will not allow you to harm Cecil!" a Fabulian High Monk demanded, cutting in front of Cecil's fallen form and raising his fists. Even though the monk was the largest man in the room, he still only came up to Golbez's chest. Golbez shook his head and laughed. This was almost too adorable.

"I did not come to treat with worms," he hissed, and thrust his palm forward. An immense wave of dark energy washed over the entire room, knocking the monk and Prince Edward to their knees. Cecil's head slammed back to the mirrored floor, his eyes clenched shut. The little girl was frozen stiff, horror in her eyes as all the men before her fell, with the exception of Kain and himself.

Golbez pointed toward the glimmering crystal before them, only feet away on the dais. "Enough of this foolishness…Kain, bring me the crystal." Of course, he could have easily gotten it himself…but he wanted to see the look in Cecil's eyes as the man who had supposedly been his best friend made the final twist of the knife that had been planted in his back. It was the little things that brought him such joy during these trite efforts.

"Yes, my lord," Kain bowed his head slightly and turned, climbing up the staircase of the dais. Cecil didn't move, a little to Golbez's disappointment.

"Don't do it, Kain!" the blonde woman suddenly cried, pushing off the wall and reaching her hand out toward him. Kain paused on the last step and looked over at her, a grimace on his lips.

"I…"

"Rosa, leave it be!" Cecil suddenly moaned, dragging himself up from the floor. Golbez looked over his shoulder at the girl he had called Rosa, and chuckled.

 _Perhaps I miscalculated…the boy's weakness may not have been Kain, after all. Still, the dragoon has proven useful enough…I just rather dislike wasting my time._

"Oh, you care for this one, do you? Then let me take her along as well…to hold in trust until we are graced with the chance to meet again. Come, Kain!" Golbez suddenly teleported to Rosa's side, gripping her upper arm within his claw and lifting her up from the floor, pulling her close to his chest. Rosa cried out and tried to jerk away, but her efforts were meaningless. He let her squirm helplessly, tears springing from her eyes as she made a final attempt to extend her hand outward.

"Cecil...!"

"Rosa…!" Cecil moaned, struggling to rise onto his knees. Golbez smiled, tossing Rosa over his shoulder and opening a portal made of pulsing purple light with his free hand. Kain snatched the Crystal of Wind, tucking it under his arm and tilting his head toward Cecil as he leapt by.

"It would seem your life has been spared…for now." He turned away and leapt into the portal, Golbez and Rosa disappearing behind him. As the magic began to fade behind them, sending them plunging between dimensions, Golbez could hear Cecil's pathetic whimpers.

"Kain…wait…urgh…GOD DAMNIT!"

 _I want to see you again soon, Cecil…promise you won't make me wait long._

* * *

 _Village on Baron's Outskirts, 37 years prior_

Theodor lay on his mother's bed – or at least, what had been his mother's bed up until a few hours prior – staring at the baby boy swaddled next to him. The baby was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware that he had been brought into the world an orphan – but Theodor hadn't been able to get a moment of rest since some kind neighbors had removed Cecilia's body from their house, promising that they would be back tomorrow to help bury her in the plot next to his father in the woods to the north. It had only been a few weeks since it had come into existence – the overturned earth had not yet even settled yet, and they would now go tearing back into it in less than twelve hours.

The midwife had left him tucked into his own bed, whispering that she was going to stop at home to get a few items so that she could spend the night, and asked him to leave the baby alone, whom she had finally gotten nursed and settled in for the night. But as soon as she had left, Theodor had rolled out of his bed and immediately gone to Cecilia's – crawling next to his new baby brother and trying to fall asleep to his calm, steady breathing noises he emitted from his rosebud lips. He could still smell his mother on the pillowcase – a mix of her favorite lavender perfume and stale sweat from her nightmarish labor. The midwife had immediately stripped the bed of the bloodied sheets from Cecilia's delivery, but must have forgotten about the pillows in the chaos that had followed once the baby started crying for milk.

Theodor made a mental note to switch the pillow himself before the midwife got back – she would catch its scent as soon as she went to bed, and would insist on tossing it in the tub of laundry she had already gotten started in the back yard. He wasn't ready to purge every piece of evidence that just hours ago, Cecilia had been a living, breathing presence – that pillow had been the last thing she had touched, falling back against it with the baby in her arms as she breathed her final words that echoed over and over again in Theodor's ears.

 _"Thank goodness…"_

"Mother…" Theodor whimpered, clutching the pillow tighter as he choked on his sobs. _Thank goodness for what…? You didn't want to leave us to be with Father, right? What are the baby and I going to do without you? He doesn't even have a name…_

The lanterns suddenly blew out in the house, blanketing the two of them in velvet darkness. Theodor shot up in bed, his heart throbbing in his chest. A hissing sound like a snake tickled his ears, and a low voice whispered to him.

"A vile thing, isn't he? That brother of yours..."

"What!?" Theodor cried, looking around. However, the house was empty. The midwife hadn't come back yet – he would have heard the key grinding in the ancient lock. The clouds outside parted, piercing moonlight from the full twin moons bathing their bed, drowning the sleeping baby that was nestled deep a collection of worn-through blankets. They had been Theodor's from when he had been born – Cecilia had grown too depressed and weak to finish any of the blankets she had started for the new arrival after his father had been brutally murdered – and now they would remain in her abandoned knitting pile, never to be touched again.

The voice came again, this time even louder and closer. "He is the root of all you've suffered."

"Wh-who's there!?" Theodor demanded, jumping out of bed and reaching behind it to pull out his father's old staff.

"If it weren't for him, your mother and father would both still be alive."

Theodor could feel his knees knocking together as the staff slipped in his sweat-streaked palm. "N-no, you're wrong!"

"And you are a vile little insect… Birthed from a womb of a dragon's corpse are you!"

Theodor screamed, covering his ears and sinking to his knees. The staff clattered to the floor, rolling under the bed. Theodor could feel something cold creeping up his spine, curling around his ribcage and clutching his heart, squeezing so hard he thought it might explode inside his chest.

"Stop...stop talking to me! It's not my brother's fault!" Another twisting pain – Theodor gagged on his sobs as he doubled-over, his fingernails tearing frustratingly at his scalp.

 _My blood…it feels like ice water…roaring through my ears…like I'm being frozen from the inside!_

The voice let out a peel of laughter and whispered once more, a shadow veiling the moonlight.

"I name you...Golbez!"

The baby opened his crystalline cerulean eyes, startled by the sudden darkness, and let out a pitiful wail as his elder brother collapsed on the floor.

* * *

"No, you're wrong! I'm...!"

Golbez's eyes suddenly opened, and he winced at the bright, too-white artificial lights that assaulted him from above, immediately closing them shut again in objection.

 _More nightmares…or rather, memories. Why after all this time…?_

After a few moments, he summoned the strength to roll himself over, cringing since the cold, metal floor provided no comfort his battered and bruised _everything_ – not to mention that the sterile chill of the metal didn't exactly feel great against bare skin.

Propping his head onto his arms, Golbez tried opening his eyes again, this time only being greeted by smaller, blinking lights that appeared to act as an emergency exit path on the floor. The steady hum of an air current was rushing through vents from above, and dozens of windows were positioned above glowing glass consoles, all shuttered with steel enclosures.

 _This almost looks like the bridge of a ship._

"Where...am I?" Golbez asked aloud, hoping someone would actually answer him. There came no reply, however – he was on his own – as Fusoya had apparently intended. Pulling himself to his feet, he padded over to a golden crystal suspended in a column of light, pressing his hand to his mouth.

 _A crystal…but not one I've ever seen before…_

 _I must be on the Lunar Whale – and_ _ **that**_ _is the Crystal of Flight – our prayers were answered!?_

A glowing blue button on the console ahead got his attention – he reluctantly left the crystal's warm, but lonely light, and pressed it, figuring that nothing too terrible would happen compared to the mental hellscape he had just trudged through. The metal shutters all rolled open in response, flooding the room in resplendent moonlight reflected off a familiar blue sphere hanging in the depths of space. Golbez shook his head in disbelief, his palms slamming on the console.

"No…this cannot be!"

The blue sphere was joined by a silver moon that Golbez had never seen before as the ship tumbled through space. It was hurling toward the planet with unbelievable speed – even as the Lunar Whale zoomed past, Golbez could see the moon never drifting far behind in the rear windows of the ship. He turned back to the console, knitting his brows in frustration as he tried to pull up a navigation system – surely his father had something like that installed. After a few minutes of a lot of button-pressing and cursing, a holograph displayed over one of the windows, transforming it into a star-punctured map. Golbez could see a glowing, dotted line running from a small sphere on the edge of the map, trailing all the way across to a slightly larger blue sphere – that had to have been the Blue Planet – and a blinking X was slowly making its approach – the Lunar Whale. On the opposite side of the planet and the Lunar Whale, there was another sphere – Golbez figured that was the Blue Planet's actual moon, the one it had had since the birth of the cosmos. He pushed another button, and the map lit up with labels under each of the figures – Golbez confirmed all of his guesses had been correct.

But the moon they had just passed – and by all appearances on the map, also seemed to be on the same path as the Lunar Whale – contained no identifier. Golbez turned to the Crystal of Flight, pointing to the mystery moon.

"What is this?"

The Crystal of Flight glimmered, a robotic voice chirping from speakers tucked in the corners of the bridge.

"Unidentified satellite, approximately one-thousand miles in radius. Approximate travel speed based on trajectory to Blue Planet: 1500 miles per hour. Approximate age: At least one billion years. Life forms sustained…Zzzzz…Sssss…ERROR. Sorry, I am not able to complete your query."

The speakers clicked off, and Golbez sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He had no clue what he was supposed to do once he landed on the Blue Planet – Fusoya had not been kind enough to let him in on his little plan before banishing him. If the Blue Planet's crystals were in peril as Fusoya had suspected, where could he even start in trying to find and defend them? Did anyone on the Blue Planet have any clue what was transpiring? Would anyone even _believe_ him…or would they think he was trying to enact a repeat performance of his war crimes?

And as he drifted aimlessly through space, his uncle and the Lunarians were still in unspeakable danger…

Golbez closed his eyes. "Crystal of Flight, are we able to change course to the Red Moon?"

The speakers came on again. "Sorry, that command has been overwritten. Click."

 _Damnation. Fusoya's miracles are quite thorough…_

Golbez dismissed the map and pressed his hands to the ice-cold glass, watching as the Blue Planet came ever closer, his heart caught in his throat. His mind drifted back to his nightmare with Cecil in the crystal palace, his brother's sword buried in his chest…

 _Cecil…_

* * *

 _-End of Part Two-_


	28. Act Twenty-Eight: The Kinsman's Tale

Act Twenty-Eight: The Kinsman's Tale | The Lunar Progeny

Edge seized the stranger in black's bare shoulder, forcing him to turn and face him with what took a surprising amount of effort. He tried to hide the whimper that had accidentally slipped out his mouth with an awkward cough as his still-aching side throbbed in protest. _What the hell is this guy made out of, moon rocks?!_

The man's violet eyes narrowed as he shrugged off Edge's hand, an insolent, silent dare passing from his gaze to the ninja's.

 _Touch me again, and see if the hand comes back with you next time._

"I want an answer!" Edge hissed, all of the man's reticent warnings going right over his head as he took a step forward. "Where did you come from!?"

"Edge, stop it!" Rydia sighed in exasperation. She forced herself between the two men, pushing up on her toes so she could glare directly into Edge's eyes. "If you must know, he saved my life, back in Agart. If he hadn't stopped Titan, I would be…" She pressed her hand to her mouth, muffling a sob. "…Erg, Titan…!"

Edge softened his glare, biting his lip as he reached for Rydia's hair. "Hey…I'm sorry, I didn't know. What happened with Titan…?"

Rydia reached up with the reflexes of a cat, smacking Edge's hand away with a sharp "crack". Meanwhile, the man in black had turned away once more, his attention stolen by a thunderous banging that had taken up directly above them. A barrage of rocks and dust had become loosened in the Underworld's massive ceiling, raining down all around them and plunging into the boiling magma below.

 _Fusoya…the Tower of Babil has been activated...and Rydia's eidolons have been turned against her, just as Asura and Leviathan turned on us. Have the Blue Planet's crystals already fallen into enemy hands…? If you can hear me – if you're still alive – please, tell me what to do!_

Luca let out a shriek as one of the rocks fell into the maw of the Falcon's chopping propellers, igniting a shower of golden sparks and causing the airship to shudder violently. "We can't idle here much longer!" she huffed. "Are we going in the Tower of Babil, or not?"

"There's nothing in there worth seeing," Gekkou frowned. "I reckon you'd be walking into a death trap based on what we just escaped."

"We need to go somewhere safe to gather our thoughts and share what little information we may have," Zangetsu said. "Does that sound reasonable to everyone?"

"Fine by me," Edge grunted, glaring up at the man in black. "And _everyone_ is gonna talk – or else we're going to have to lighten our load a bit."

 _The gods help me – it's been seventeen years, and this man hasn't changed a bit – he's as obnoxious as I remember. I know he has the right to be suspicious, but…_

Golbez pressed his lips into a thin line to mask his uneasiness, watching as Edge spun on his heel and went back to mooning over Rydia, who clearly wanted nothing to do with his sudden attentiveness, turning her hips away from him as she crossed her arms under her chest and rolled her eyes. Golbez cut a glance to the four other ninjas – Edge's guard, he presumed, since they had followed him in his foolish leap of faith – but they were paying him no mind. He got the impression that he was no more a stranger to them than Rydia and Luca, and it seemed their hackles weren't raised by their leader's immediate distrust of him. _So why…?_

He watched Rydia march to the front of the ship, leaning in over Luca's shoulder and pointing her finger toward the entrance to the Overworld as she said something that was inaudible over the roar of the falling rocks and the now-wailing rotor. He could feel Edge glaring daggers at him from behind, the cold sweat breaking along his scalp his first major clue that he was being watched.

 _Ah, of course. It's not just that he suspects my identity – he's mad that I had the audacity to show up with his little girlfriend. It is obvious even to me that those two can't communicate their way out of a paper bag…what the hell have I gotten myself into?_

He shook his head, giving a backhanded wave to Edge to indicate he knew he was being watched as he made his way toward the rear of the ship.

 _It was both a blessing and a curse finding Rydia – she would have surely been killed if I had not stopped the eidolon – but I was not yet prepared to face any of my former adversaries so soon after my arrival. And now Edge is suddenly here too – will the others be close to follow?_

 _I can only pray we find the crystals as quickly as possible… If either Rydia or Edge find out who I really am, they might tear me to shreds before I can save anything or anyone – and Fusoya's sacrifice will be for naught. I can't let that happen – I can't let anyone suffer ever again because of my failings._

 _My debt to this planet is already so exorbitant…_

* * *

 _Agart_

The scholar snuggled into the cot, muttering happily into her pillow as she curled her legs tighter.

"Hee hee…why, yes Your Highness, I'm not promised to anyone…yet…Zzzzz…"

 _"What in blazes!?"_

"Gah…!"

She shot up in bed, sucking air between her teeth as she listened to what sounded like a herd of elephants tap dancing on the ceiling and Cory's amplifying screams. Grabbing her pillow, she gave it a few hard punches, pretending it was her boss's face as she tried to regain a semblance of composure. Giving the pillow one last jab, she tilted her head toward the ceiling, exhaling deeply and calling out.

"What is it, sir?"

"Meteors! Falling toward us from the moon!"

She blinked, rolling over on the cot and throwing apart the blackout curtains installed next to her. She let out a strangled gasp as tails of white flame greeted her, streaking across the sky without rest. The looming specter of the new moon was now so close that a heavy gray shadow had fallen over half the village – how could it had possibly moved so far, so quickly, from when she had first observed it in the telescope only days ago?

She realized with horror that when she drew the curtain shut again, the amount of light that poured into the room no longer shifted – the observatory had been submerged in total darkness.

* * *

 _Damcyan_

The throne room doors flew open, Toby sliding to a halt as he haphazardly fell to one knee before the chancellor. "Trouble, my lord!"

The chancellor stepped forward, Harley observing from her position near the empty fireplace, listlessly staring into its depths – it had been one of the few parts of the throne room that hadn't been blown to smithereens when the Red Wings had attacked, but she couldn't bring herself to light it with the scorched mess that already surrounded her – it seemed impractical, somehow.

"What is it?" the chancellor blinked, motioning with his hand for Toby to rise.

"Meteors are bombarding the land! Countless waves of them!" Toby gasped, not bothering to stand back up. "I watched several of them crash into Mount Hobs – there's been a landslide, and now the path to Fabul has been blocked!"

"What!?" the chancellor shrieked.

"Some of the other soldiers have already left to check for casualties…"

Harley pressed her lips together, summoning every last ounce of strength she had left to keep herself from collapsing into a heap on the floor. Somewhere out there, newly-injured and throwing himself headfirst into what was looking more and more likely to be a second War of the Crystals, was her king…and he hadn't even the nerve to tell her in-person that he was chasing that murderous dragoon back to Baron – she had suffered the indignity of one of the guards seeking her out after he had witnessed King Edward's escape.

And now a meteor storm, too…! How was she expected to stay strong for Damcyan in Edward's absence if the odds were ever-increasing that he may never return? She lowered her head, her fingers clumsily bumping against her glasses as she reached up to grind away the fresh onslaught of tears forming under her lids.

 _No…King Edward…!_

* * *

 _Fabul_

Sheila and the duke consort's eyeballs bounced back and forth as they watched the chancellor pace – one could not be faulted for thinking they were observing a tennis match with the speed and tenacity the chancellor had invested in his ten foot journey back and forth across the throne room. He threw his arms in the air, shaking his fists dramatically. "Oh, what will become of us!?"

Sheila rolled her eyes, reaching for her broom. The duke consort grabbed the chancellor's wrists, swinging them back down and whispering harshly. "Calm down, Chancellor! We cannot afford to lose our heads! If anyone were to see you like this…"

"He's right!" Sheila added, smacking the handle of the broom against her palm with a menacing "smack" that echoed across the chamber and subsequently made the blood drain from the chancellor's face.

"We must maintain control of ourselves until Yang comes back with Ursula!" She fastened a hopeful smile on her face, though it didn't reach her eyes. "It shouldn't be long now…"

* * *

 _Agart_

"I... I cannot believe this," Cory moaned, his head sinking in his hands as he rolled the stool and himself away from the telescope. "This is utter madness…"

"What now, sir?" the scholar asked softly. She had retrieved a fresh pot of coffee and had forgone a mug, handing the entire affair to Cory. He had already tossed half of it back in between random mutterings and bemoaning fits at the telescope. She bent over the telescope since it didn't look like he was going to be able to will his legs to work any time soon, making a slight adjustment for her height and peering inside the metal eyepiece.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight when she saw it. The scream that raised in her throat came out as a whimper as she lifted her gaze away, the world around her fading to white as her knees turned to jelly.

"No…this cannot be…!"

"It can, and it is! The moon…" Cory rolled himself to the nearby window, yanking up the blinds and shaking his head as he pressed his palms to the glass. "It's...it's _falling_!"

* * *

 _Eblan_

A sweeping darkness poured over the Eblanese throne room through the skylights above, plunging the Seneschal and his company of soldiers in abrupt afternoon twilight.

"What in the world!?" a soldier blinked. "It wasn't supposed to storm today…"

"It's no storm…!" Seneschal barked an order for two of the other soldiers to investigate, giving in to his knocking knees as he fell back into Edge's throne, his stunned gaze never leaving the bruised skies suspended above.

 _Young Highness! Where are you…?_

* * *

Luca had guided the Falcon out of the Underworld with all the urgency of a bat out of hell, just narrowly avoiding a crushing rockslide that had nearly taken them out of commission. Neither the man in black nor Rydia had uttered a word about their abandoned mission to the Tower of Babil, although the Eblan Four were secretly grateful that they were now a respectable distance from the creepy monolith.

"Oh, no!" Rydia cried as they emerged on the Overworld, her eyes darkening as she took in the destruction that surrounded them. The small island that housed the Underworld's entrance and the village of Agart sat upon had been utterly devastated – craters the size of houses had been implanted everywhere, entire swaths of forest torn away and the massive peaks of the mountains that made up the entrance to the Underworld cut down to half their height. In the distance, scores of meteorites were canvassing the horizon; some of them were crashing into the ocean with such intensity that twenty-foot high tidal waves were smashing into the shores below.

But perhaps most horrifying of all was the strange color of the sky – it had been painted a putrid brown, dust and ash from the pulverized planet swallowed by the atmosphere. The twin moon had now plunged into the path of the sun, blanketing the land in staggering dusk as far as the eye could see.

"What's going on here!?" Edge gasped. "How can it be night already?"

"It would seem we do not have the luxury of time to dally any longer," Golbez frowned. "It's _not_ night…the moon has advanced so closely that we've been cut off from the sun's light. It will be a matter of either being frozen or crushed to death, now…"

Edge whirled around, grabbing the man in black by his cloak even as Rydia screamed for him to stop. "You! Spill everything you know, _right now_. How about starting by telling us who you are, for one?"

"I don't have the answers you seek," Golbez sighed. He tried to exercise his constraint by not backhanding Edge off of him and tossing him over the ship – it was a good thing he had had seventeen years to practice his meditation skills. "What's critical is what we have already witnessed – the Tower of Babil has been made active once again, which must mean the crystals have fallen to enemy hands."

"How can that be?" Izayoi blinked. "We four just observed the crystals, safe and sound, only days ago."

"No…He's probably right…" Luca shook her head, her lips twisted in a scowl. "All of the Underworld's crystals were stolen away…one of them right from under Rydia and I's nose! A day or two might have been all it took to finish the job."

"Especially if Baron really is behind all of this…" Edge trailed off.

"Baron?" Golbez shook his head. "What are you talking about…?"

"Look out! A meteor!" Rydia suddenly shrieked, pointing above them to where a streak of blinding white light was making its way directly for them.

"Punch it, boys! We need to get out of here!" Luca snapped her goggles back over her face, releasing the brake on the Falcon and sending them shooting forward, a chorus of screams rising from the rear of the ship. Rydia stumbled backward, Golbez catching her just before she hit the floor – much to Edge's chagrin.

"Where are we going!?" Tsukinowa cried, clutching to Izayoi's leg.

"Anywhere the meteors are not!" Luca replied over her shoulder, letting out a curse as she made a sharp turn to dodge yet another onslaught. "The storm can't be encompassing the entire planet…right?"

Edge kept his eye on the horizon as Agart got smaller and smaller, soon shrinking into nothingness. "It's unbelievable... Meteors really are falling all over the land as far as the eye can see!"

Suddenly, Golbez released Rydia, gently shoving her toward Edge as he marched up to the steering wheel and wrestled it from Luca's grasp. Rydia stared after him, so surprised that she didn't notice Edge's hands brushing over her shoulders.

"Wh-whoa! What are you doing?" Luca cried. "We can't stop here! We're gonna be sitting ducks!"

"We're not stopping," Golbez grunted, giving the wheel a hard spin to the left.

"Then what're you…?" Rydia trailed off. She watched as the universe blurred before her, smears of sparkling white light perforating the progressively darkening sky.

"We're headed towards Baron Castle!" Edge frowned. "Do you think the crystals are really all there…?"

"Gods…I hope not…" Rydia whimpered. "That will mean…Cecil…!" She pressed her face into Edge's shoulder, smothering her words. She couldn't bear to say it out loud – that perhaps Cecil _had_ betrayed them after all…

* * *

 _Baron_

Cid's nostrils flared as he spat his pipe out of his mouth, waving it threateningly at the bemused king.

"Cecil! How could you say something like that to Kain after all this time? What's gotten into you, boy?"

Cecil tilted his head, his smile deepening in reply. Kain, for his part, hadn't let himself react to Cecil's taunt – he continued to stare at Cecil silently, drinking in the chaotic aura of the man who had once been his very best friend – his brother in everything but name. Finally, Cecil broke the lull, his voice overly-cheerful as he spat his words through clenched teeth.

"Kain is my dearest friend…he knows when I'm joking, don't you, Highwind?"

"…Sure," Kain shrugged. "I suppose that's all this is, right? A joke."

"...Cecil!" Rosa's face was white as bone. She couldn't believe what she was hearing – she hadn't been naïve enough to expect the two of them to kiss and make up after the immense pain they had been letting fester for seventeen years – but Cecil's dismissive attitude was beyond the pale. Didn't even a small part of him realize the pure hell Kain had had to go through to be here again?

"Please, don't do this…not now. These past few days…I thought you were _dead_. And Kain...this whole time, he's been guarding your son! What have you been doing since you sent Cid and I away?"

When Cecil didn't reply, Ceodore took a shaky step forward, his fingers clenched into a fist over his chest. "Father…the Red Wings…there was a horrible accident on our way home from the trial. Our ship was attacked by monsters, and we crashed on the Mysidian continent. Biggs…Wedge…everyone…they died, protecting me…" He glanced over his shoulder at Kain, who was watching him warily. "If Kain hadn't found me wandering the fields, I wouldn't be standing here before you. So please, don't be cruel – this isn't like you at all!"

Cecil arched an eyebrow, his smile fading as he swept down the stairs that lead from his throne. He placed both his hands on Ceodore's shoulders, Ceodore wincing as a rush of piercing cold penetrated his armor. He couldn't bear to bring himself to look into his father's eyes – they made him feel as if he were drifting aimlessly through space, each breath taken another one closer to suffocation.

"Ceodore – Have you forgotten yourself? You're the Prince of Baron – my only child, and heir to the most powerful kingdom in the world. It was the Red Wings' duty – no, their honor – to exchange their lives for yours." He glanced up at Kain as Ceodore's jaw hit the floor.

"Kain has no need of a prince's reprieve – it's the sins he's laid against the _king_ that require payment."

* * *

It seemed that Luca had been partially correct about the whole world not yet being under siege – the meteor storm had not quite reached Baron's shores. But Golbez knew it was only a matter of time – the nauseating stench that he recalled from the impact site on the Red Moon was hanging warningly in the air. Maybe the others couldn't pick up on it yet, but it had been thoroughly burned into his memory – he could now detect it anywhere, anytime. If he ever went back into stasis, he somehow knew he would dream of it, too.

Landing the ship outside of Baron Village, Golbez had to then mentally steel himself to actually _exit_ it. Luca gave him a strange look as she "helped" by pressing the switch that would lower the ramp, but he continue to stare dead-eyed at the steering wheel, suddenly very much regretting the cavalier way he had taken over their mission. He should have asked Edge what he meant when he had said that Baron was the power behind gathering the crystals…but that would have required him to talk to the annoying brat and put up with more of his cross-examinations.

And right on time, as if he could read Golbez's mind, Edge stomped to the front of the ship, his arms crossed as he eyed the man in black from behind. "What form of treachery is this? Are we going in, or not?"

Golbez rolled his eyes up toward the heavens, his fingers finally releasing the steering wheel.

 _It was foolish to think I would accomplish anything here without seeing Cecil. Maybe he won't recognize me…_

 _…But if he's in danger, then it really doesn't matter…I'll do anything to save him._

Golbez turned, shoving past Edge as he barreled down the ramp. "Off we go."

"Hold it!" Edge shrieked, running after him. Rydia and Luca both shared a look of dismay, rolling their eyes in unison.

The Eblan Four padded after Edge silently, their best stone-faced masks bereft of emotion plastered to their faces. Luca whirled around to face the newly-repaired Calca and Brina, who were waiting patiently at the front of the ship.

"You two stay and watch the Falcon," Luca smiled, and they both nodded, pumping their little fists.

"Gonna watch the ship!"

"Make sure everything is safe!"

"I'm so glad they're with us again," Rydia smiled. "It felt really lonely for a while, huh?"

"Yeah," Luca nodded, adjusting her visor as she watched the man in black and the five ninjas cut through the meadows that would take them to Cecil's doorstep. "But then all of a sudden, we acquired six more passengers, and enough drama to fill the entire ship to capacity."

"I don't know what Edge's problem is," Rydia groaned. "We haven't seen each other in nearly fifteen years, and _this_ is how he acts? Has he any idea the gravity of the situation we have on our hands, or is he just playing hero for his adoring fan club?"

Luca raised her eyebrows, weighing her words carefully before just deciding it was best not to reply at all. _Jeeze, Rydia… Talk about not seeing the forest for the trees…_

Rydia and Luca caught up to the others, who had paused at the castle gates. Rydia had been afraid that they might have been stopped by soldiers, or worse – but there was no one to be seen outside the castle walls. A dense fog had quietly closed in around them, and the castle itself was ablaze in a soft red light that was unfortunately very familiar.

"What the...!?" Edge reached for the handles on the abandoned doors, but was thrown backward upon making contact. He contorted his body mid-air to curl into a half-somersault, unsteadily landing on his feet a few yards away instead of careening into the moat. He flicked his wrist anxiously, his fingertips still burning from the energy that had surged through him. "Ugh... That didn't do anything..."

"Are you trying to get yourself killed!?" Luca blinked, and the Eblan Four all cut Edge a dirty look that he sheepishly laughed off.

Rydia stepped up to the door, tilting her head as she pressed a finger to her lips in thought. "It's the same glow as the one coming from the Tower of Babil." She stared up at the tallest towers of the castle, sighing in resignation. "And it is surrounding the entire property. So we're not getting in from above with the Falcon, either."

"Is there no way for us to break through?" Luca frowned. "A secret passage, anything like that?"

Golbez took one last look at the castle, sweeping his gaze down to the moat as something sparked in his memory. _I seem to recall something like that…it was Cagnazzo's downfall, if I am remembering correctly…_

Golbez turned to leave, but Edge stepped in front of him, shoving his injured hand in his pocket.

"Where're you going?"

"Were you not listening to the dwarf? We must find another way inside," Golbez said coolly. He brushed past Edge, his black cape snapping to attention behind him as he began to make his way to Baron Village.

"Stop! Wait!" Edge cried, curing his burned hand with a ninjitsu technique before chasing after him.

"I haven't seen the master this agitated in quite a while," Izayoi blinked. "Normally, he's so calm and collected in these kinds of situations."

"…You're joking, right?" Rydia pressed her lips together. "We're talking about the same Edge, right? Edward Geraldine? King of Eblan?" Izayoi's icy gaze rested on Rydia, and for a moment, the summoner wondered if she would be flash-frozen on the spot.

 _This lady would give Shiva a run for her money with that stare…!_

But Izayoi merely smiled, her blood-red lips curling to meet the apples of her well-sculpted face. "Perhaps a lot has changed since the last time you two saw each other – it's been quite a while, right?"

"I suppose so…" Rydia tucked her hair behind her ear, not sure of what else to do with her suddenly trembling hands.

Izayoi's hand brushed over her cousin's shoulders – she was gesturing for him to start following Edge. "But rest assured, he's as committed to protecting his devotions as he has ever been – maybe that's the difference between what's happening now and anything else that has occurred before. I think…perhaps…" She licked her teeth and shook her head. "Ah, I was about to speak out of turn. Forgive me." She turned away, her arm still around Tsukinowa, and left, taking him with her.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but that's Izayoi's way of trying to make friends," Gekkou smiled as Rydia stared after her, dumbfounded. "If she had been assigned to seduce you or spy on you, it might have gone a little better. I don't think she knows what to do with herself if she has to talk with a stranger just for the sake of conversation and not to meet an end-goal."

"…Seduce?" Rydia flushed. That had been the one word that had stuck in her ear as she listened to Gekkou ramble on. "What do you all do for Edge, exactly…?"

At the village gates, Rydia and Luca were once again the last ones to arrive, having trailed behind with Gekkou and Zangetsu – the two men had been kind enough to properly introduce themselves and share the names of the remaining half of the Eblan Four, something Edge had neglected to do when he had crashed the party back in the Underworld. The man in black and Edge were standing opposite each other against the wall that housed the village proper, sharing a weary look between the two of them that kindled the tiniest of hopes in Rydia that perhaps they had put their petty pissing match aside for the sake of what had quickly become a string of world-class disasters.

"There are soldiers milling about everywhere," Golbez frowned. "It's difficult to tell if they are…still human, or not."

"Oh no," Luca gulped. "Didn't something like this happen once before in Baron?"

"Yes," Rydia sighed, her eyes meeting Edge's. "Before Edge and I were able to join up with Cecil, unfortunately…all I know is that at the time, Baron was being ruled by a false king – a usurper that Golbez had put on the throne to play a role in gathering the crystals. By the time Edge and I had made our way to Baron, Cecil had neutralized the threat – so I don't have a point of reference."

"It doesn't seem like they are bothering anybody," Edge added, not noticing that the man in black had turned away from them, finding a sudden interest in his feet. "But it's odd that the streets are totally empty at this time of day. I bet the villagers are hiding."

"Where should we go, then?" Tsukinowa asked. "Who in town would know about a secret passage to the castle if we can't risk asking the soldiers?"

"Oh, I've got it!" Luca exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I can't believe I'm only thinking of this now – Master Cid might be home! He knows the castle inside-out – he'll know exactly what to do." She pointed to the northwest, toward a white-painted brick house perched on a small hill. "That's his place – ya'all follow me, and try not to look too suspicious."

The Eblan Four glanced at each other. That last part was going to be a little difficult – they were sure it wasn't everyday that Baron had a parade of ninjas traipsing through town.

Edge allowed Luca to take the lead, everyone falling in step behind her as they cautiously tried to avoid eye contact with any soldier that crossed their path. Most of the soldiers seemed to be out of it – they kept close to their designated routes, their eyes never leaving the few feet of space in front of them until it was time to turn around and reverse direction. Rydia wrapped her arms around herself as they walked, keeping her head down and counting her steps to keep herself distracted from staring at any of them out of morbid curiosity.

Deep within, a needling fear was gnawing at her stomach – if Ceodore had really joined the military like the rumor they had heard in Agart had proclaimed, would one of the mindless zombies wandering around town have his face?

 _No…Cecil would never let something like that happen to his only son – he loves Ceodore more than anything in this world! That much would be true even if he were pursuing the crystals…right?_

After what felt like an eternity, Rydia found stone steps beneath her feet, and she followed Luca upward until they had reached Cid's small, but tidy front yard. Luca bounded up to the door, banging on it in the total opposite of a non-suspicious manner that made everyone else cringe silently behind her.

"Master! Master Cid!" Luca called, and there was the sound of hurried scraping on the other side of the door.

"Who is it?" a child's voice rang out.

"Shhh! Don't go outside!" another voice hissed – this one most definitely belonging to an adult.

"No, it's all right! It's me, Luca!"

"Huh…?"

Silence fell between Luca and the door, and for a moment, Rydia worried that no one was going to let them in. But at last, there came the distinct click of a latch being unfastened, and the door slowly slid open. Standing before them was a taller, willowy, and much easier on the eyes version of Cid – it was his daughter, Amelia, whom Rydia had always assumed was at least Cecil's age, if not older. A little boy was clinging to her skirt, gazing up at Luca with starry eyes.

"Luca!" Amelia blinked, her hand flying to her chest. "Rydia and Edge, too!" She peered over their shoulders, spotting the man in black and the Eblan Four as well. "…Wow, a whole cavalcade…"

"Oh, it's such a relief to see all of you safe…" Luca sniffled, kneeling down and opening her arms. Mid threw himself at her with abandon, nuzzling his cheek into her chest as he tried to reach his tiny arms around her muscular shoulders.

Amelia took one last look to make sure no soldiers had followed them, her voice dropping an octave. "Do you know of my father or of King Cecil? The rumors being thrown about continue to be…unsettling."

Luca's face crumpled as she heard Amelia's question, pulling Mid tighter against her so that he couldn't see the tears starting to pool in her eyes. _If Amelia hasn't seen Cid or Cecil…it must mean they've been together this whole time...!_

Edge cleared his throat, eying Mid as he spoke. "We are in the midst of searching for them, but you know that stubborn old man better than I do. I'm sure he's doing just fine."

 _Edge…_ Rydia felt a soft blush blossom over the bridge of her nose. _Sometimes you actually know the right thing to say, huh?_

Amelia tilted her head, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "Yes... You're right, of course. It's not like he hasn't been gone for far longer before. Mid just keeps haunting me about the airship ride Father has been promising him…he's driving me crazy."

"Luca can take me," Mid shrugged, finally pulling away from her. "Can we go right now?"

"Uh…not quite yet," Luca smiled, ruffling Mid's hair. "We actually came to visit to see if your Mommy or Granddaddy knew another way we could get into Baron Castle…one a little less, under the radar, shall we say?"

"…Oh!" Amelia eyes widened when it finally dawned on her what Luca was asking. "Oh dear. I'm afraid that your timing is just slightly off – the only other way I know to get into the castle is via the underground waterway that runs beneath town. I was carrying the key for my father, but Ceodore borrowed it – I told him to just give it back to Cid when he was done, so I haven't seen him since."

Rydia practically screamed in joy, pouncing in front of Amelia. "You saw Ceodore!? How recently?"

"Ah…" Amelia took a step back from Rydia's sudden burst of crazy, smiling weakly. "About two days ago. He said he needed it for a mission he had been assigned. Did you know he is in the Red Wings now?"

 _Two days ago…so definitely after the moon returned…maybe even after the Red Wings stole Luca's crystal. Perhaps the_ _ **real**_ _Red Wings were not involved in any of the raids after all!_

"Is there anywhere else he could be?" Edge asked. "I know you said you haven't seen him, but…it would be helpful if we were able to get our hands on that key."

"Perhaps he stopped at his grandmother's house," Amelia offered. "Lady Joanna has been moaning on and on about not seeing him enough lately." She clasped her hand over her mouth, sighing. "Sorry, that was rude...I've just been a little stressed as of late."

"Rude?" Edge chuckled. "If you heard what I consider rude, you might faint. That was downright cordial."

Out of the side of his eye, Golbez caught a soldier at the foot of the hill staring up at them for what felt like a beat too long. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in warning, getting Luca and Rydia's attention while Edge flirted away.

 _Let's find this Ceodore they keep clamoring about and get out of here…if he's a Red Wing, he might know another way to get into the castle, even if he no longer has the waterway key._

"Well, thank you for your time," Rydia smiled, taking the man in black's hint that they should keep moving. "We'll let you know as soon as we run into Cid."

"Thank you," Amelia nodded. "Mid, come along…Luca will be back to play with you later. Right, Luca?"

"Of course," Luca rose to her feet, giving Mid an eager wave. "It's a promise."

They tromped back down the stairs to the village main drag, Golbez noticing that the soldier who had been watching them no longer lingering at his post. Either his shift had coincidentally ended, or he was getting some friends to do some further investigating…either way, he didn't want to stick around for what might come next.

"We should hurry," Golbez muttered. "Where is the grandmother's house?"

"I can help with that," Rydia said. "It's just a few doors down. Follow me, everyone." After passing a few houses and shops, all of which appeared to be locked up tight with curtains drawn over every window, Rydia paused in front of a well-kept single-story wood and brick-inlaid cottage that had a tan, clay-tiled roof. A trail of smoke was drifting out of the chimney around back – a hopeful indication that someone was home. The front and back gardens were fenced in with wrought-iron ornamental panels, framing a stone-embossed walkway that took you to the front door.

"This is it," Rydia announced, taking the brushed nickel door knocker between her fingers and rapping loudly. She couldn't remember the last time she had been to Rosa's mother's house – she wondered if it had been for the impromptu baby shower she had thrown for her daughter that had really ended up being all about her and her society friends – Rosa had luckily caught wind of the "surprise" and had begged Rydia to come as a barrier to her mother and the rest of the clucking hens that made up Baron's upper crust. She had been so desperate that she had commissioned Cid to pilot her eight-month pregnant self to the Feymarch to ask Rydia to attend in person.

 _Those days feel so extraordinarily far away now…like an entire lifetime ago._

"Who is it?" a strained woman's voice drifted through the heavy oak door – she sounded miffed that anyone would have the audacity to arrive on her doorstep uninvited.

 _Oh, thank goodnes_ s, Rydia thought to herself. _That snotty drawl can only belong to one possible person…we definitely have the right place, and she seems as well as ever._ She pushed up on her toes, leaning closer against the door. "Ms. Farrell, can we please come in?"

"That voice..." Joanna Farrell mumbled something else inaudible, and Rydia heard the sound of a chair being pushed away. A deadbolt slid back, and Rydia found herself staring down at Rosa's mother, a petite tyrant who couldn't have been taller than five-foot two including the hair piled upon her head in her an opulent twist. Spirals of white-streaked loose curls ran down her back, and ropes of pearls were draped around her neck. It was such a stark contrast to the styling of her daughter, who was an _actual_ queen, that Rydia would have burst out laughing if it hadn't been an entirely inappropriate time to do so.

"Wait... I _do_ know you," Joanna frowned, not noticing Rydia's twitching lips. "What was your name again?"

"It's Rydia, madam!" Rydia bowed her head slightly. She didn't really think it was protocol that she had to bow to the grandmother of the crown prince, but she decided to hedge her bets, based on what she knew about Joanna thanks to Rosa's many amusing (and cringe-worthy) stories about growing up with a noblewoman for a mother. She had seen Joanna outside of her home on several occasions – Ceodore's birthday celebrations among them – but since she wasn't rich, connected, or had much else going for her other than the ability to talk to eidolons (which didn't much matter in the circles Joanna ran in), she didn't expect Rosa's mother to actually remember her beyond being Rosa's poor friend.

"And…uh…King Edge, of Eblan," Edge added as he popped over Rydia's shoulder. _That_ made Joanna's eyes light up – and once again, Rydia was immediately forgotten. "Do you think we could come in? We have some questions, and the soldiers out here don't exactly seem friendly."

"A… _king_ , you say? In my humble abode?" Joanna had the grace to blush, flicking a hand filled with glittering rings dismissively. "I don't have much, but…you're welcome to come in, if that's what you would like. Is that your entourage back there?" She motioned toward Luca, the man in black and the four ninjas, all of which were way too amused by this for their own good. Each one of them was dreaming up how they were going to tease Edge later for being fawned over by a woman he would have kindly described as "ancient". Luca bristled at the thought of being considered part of anyone's entourage, but kept her mouth shut. She had to silently remind herself that not every human was as wonderful as Master Cid or Cecil and his friends.

"That would be great," Rydia said hurriedly, pushing past Joanna to get away from the glare of any soldiers as fast as possible. "Can we use your dining room?"

"I'll need to put on tea!"

"Not necessary," Golbez grunted, following Rydia. The rest of them piled inside, and Rydia took the first seat at the table, Edge plopping next to her. Luca and Izayoi took the last remaining seats, leaving the rest of the men to stand. Joanna fluttered about the attached kitchen, filling a kettle and setting it over her stove. Golbez shifted uncomfortably as he drew his shoulders in, feeling clumsily out of place in such an elegantly-decorated, tiny cottage – he felt as if he had been jammed into a child's dollhouse, and had to stoop to keep his head from smacking the ceiling beams. In his haste not to make eye contact with their overzealous hostess, his eyes fell over a pair of oil paintings in gilded frames that had been hung on the western wall of the room.

One of them was of a young woman, who couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen years old, dressed in the traditional garb of a white mage. The girl's hood was down, and she was flashing a bright smile at whoever had been lucky enough to capture her portrait, spirals of golden hair brushing the tops of her shoulders with a side part that was pinned with a kunzite-studded barrette. Her cream complexion was tinged pink at the cheeks with the flush of youth, her warm brown eyes sparkling with the reflection of the diamond and silver staff she held across her chest.

The second portrait next to the girl looked much newer, although the subject looked remarkably similar – Golbez wondered if they were brother and sister. The young man in the second portrait had messy platinum hair that spiked carelessly in several directions – unlike the coiffed perfection of the girl, it looked as if someone had gotten halfway through styling the boy's hair and had given up, although it somehow still suited him. A silver and sapphire circlet hung around his forehead, a subdued smile that didn't quite reach his otherworldly blue eyes set upon his bow-shaped lips. He was dressed in a high-collared black coat with silver chains draped across the chest, the mantle of a pinstriped cloak framing his shoulders – the stark contrast of his dark clothing and his alabaster coloring made his eyes even more arresting, although it was obvious that whoever had painted the portrait had spent far-more painstaking effort on the minutiae of the raiment and the attempt to make the boy appear happier than he probably was.

 _Beautiful kids…but something is odd about both of them._ Golbez looked away, deciding his best bet was to just keep staring at the floor. _I feel as if I've seen them before…which is not ideal, considering my last jaunt around this planet._

Joanna opened a cabinet, pulling down a tin of tea and a collection of cups. "Your Highness, what brings you Baron? I suppose some sort of consortium with Cecil?"

It had always amused Rydia that even though her son-in-law was king, Joanna never referred to his royal title – and it wasn't because of overt familiarity.

"We're looking for Ceodore, actually," Edge began, and Joanna spun around, the whistle on the kettle letting out a shriek as she nearly dropped a stack of tea cups.

"And what of Ceodore!? Is Ceodore with you!?"

Edge's eyes widened in surprise at her sudden change in demeanor, and Rydia jumped up to help Joanna with the china before it fell and shattered everywhere. "I'm sorry..." Rydia held the cups to her chest, her eyes creasing with concern. "…We haven't seen him…we were hoping you might know where he was."

Joanna turned away, setting her half of the cups down perhaps a little too forcefully and closing her eyes. "I see... I hope nothing's happened to him and Rosa... I've heard horrible rumors about what's happening at the castle, and it's not like either of them to stay away so long – those damned soldiers say that it's the king's orders that no one can see them, but I don't think they're even here." A tear escaped her furrowed eyes, and Rydia pressed her fingers to Joanna's, not sure what else she could possibly do or say.

 _Rosa?_ Golbez felt a muscle twitch painfully in his neck – _pop_! Had he heard the woman correctly? His eyes unwittingly flicked back up to the portrait of the girl. A piercing scream reverberated in his memory, and he was transported from an overcrowded kitchen in Baron to the crystal chamber in Fabul, the smell of blood and darkness permeating the air around him.

 _"Cecil...!"_

 _"Rosa, let it be!"_

Edge stood up, pressing his palms to the table. "Ma'am…there's no need to worry. Ceodore is a strong young man – he's Cecil's son, for heaven's sake. Do you really think he would just roll over and not fight for his kingdom?"

"He's right," Rydia frowned, squeezing Joanna's hand as she stared dead-eyed at Edge. "And not only that, but he has the bloodline of one of the most powerful white mages in the world to keep him safe, all thanks to _your_ daughter. Ceodore will make it through this...and I promise we won't rest until we find both him and Rosa."

Golbez could feel his palms slipping in perspiration from where he had been pressing back against the counter. The screams in his head were getting louder and louder – dizzily drowning out whatever comforts Rydia and Edge were trying to offer the shaken woman. He cautiously pressed one hand to his mouth in an attempt to mask his astonishment, the salty tang of his sweat stinging his chapped lips.

 _My brother has a son…_

His eyes were drawn to the portraits once more – this time, he took a closer look the boy with the haunting blue stare, and suddenly, the similarities became too obvious. Golbez had never known Cecil as a child – their time together had been a total duration of one day before they were separated for twenty long years – but he would have believed it if someone had told him the portrait before him was of Cecil, and not Cecil's son. That was how similar the two of them looked – right down to the melancholy aura persisting in that crystalline gaze.

 _The birth of a new Lunarian… After everything that has transpired with our people, it's nothing short of a miracle. I wonder if Fusoya felt the boy's arrival while he slept…?_

Golbez closed his eyes, inhaling deeply – after the count of ten, he could hear his own breath once more over the alarms blaring in his ears.

 _And I…I have a nephew…_

"Are you OK?" Tsukinowa whispered. Golbez glanced down at the ninja boy next to him, who had been staring up at him curiously – the gods only knew for how long.

"Just need some air," Golbez muttered. "It's too crowded in here." Tsukinowa nodded, as if to agree – although Golbez suspected the child was more perceptive than he was willing to give him credit for at the moment.

"Thank you for your offer to help find my grandson," Joanna mumbled, pulling the screaming tea kettle off the heat and shaking her head. "But I'm sorry…all of a sudden, I feel as if I need to lie down. You can stay as long as you would like…just lock the door behind you." She slipped past Golbez and the others, pausing before she crossed into the next room. "If the guards stop you in the street…please, don't tell them you're looking for Ceodore."

"We won't," Luca offered a small smile. "…Don't worry."

Joanna nodded, disappearing into the next room and closing the door behind her. The party stared at each other wordlessly for a few painful seconds, Rydia finally giving her head a shake as she pried open the abandoned tin of tea. If the hot water was already there, she figured she might as well take advantage of the free caffeine – she could no longer keep count of how long she had gone without sleep. "Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to come up with our theory about what the hell is going on…it would appear we're not getting into the castle anytime soon. If Ceodore is gone…then the key to the waterway must be as well."

No one said anything as Rydia plopped a tea satchel into her cup and poured the water over. Edge couldn't help but notice how wildly her hand shook as she was lifting the kettle – one slip of her fingers, and the scalding brew would have been launched across the table. More than anything, he just wanted to wrap his arms around her, pull her against him, and tell her that everything would be OK – that the last fifteen years apart had been a horrible mistake, and that he would do whatever needed done to make sure another fifteen years didn't pass without being there for her again.

The only problem with that little scenario was that he would have been lying his arse off – he didn't know if anything would ever be OK again, at the rate things were going – evidence was rapidly piling up that something was rotten in the state of Baron. And if the crystals really had already fallen into the enemy's hands – _whoever_ that actually was – they probably wouldn't even have a week left on the planet, let alone another fifteen years.

Zangetsu cleared his throat, the sudden burst of noise making everyone jump.

"Perhaps if there are some facts we can all agree upon, an idea about how we can proceed next will come to us. Does that sound like a good place to start?"

"Good idea, Zangetsu," Gekkou smiled, ever leaderful. "If I may speak for our king…" he looked over at Edge, who nodded and waved him on dispassionately, "…Nothing suspicious occurred in Eblan until the morning of the moon's return. At that point, we four went on our separate ways to…er…"

"Spy on the crystals?" Luca interjected, and Gekkou reddened. She shrugged, leaning so far back in her chair that it began to precariously balance on two legs. "Izayoi said on the ship that you guys had seen the crystals in their rightful place just days before. So obviously, you must have gone on a little field trip. I don't care – just putting everything out on the table. As both a dwarf and a princess, I feel it is best to be direct, don't you?"

"…Right," Gekkou conceded, shaking his head. So _she_ was the crown princess of the Underworld? Master Edge had friends in very high places indeed – or in this case, rather low, Gekkou supposed. "Master Edge was concerned for all of you, and that's why he sent us on our mission. But Luca, you said your crystal was stolen after all?"

"It happened the day after the moon came back," Luca glowered. "I was on patrol – the monster levels in the Underworld skyrocketed after the damned moon's return. I went to pick up Rydia in the Feymarch, and we witnessed my castle being attacked by the Red Wings – or at least what looked like the Red Wings."

"What were you doing in the Feymarch?" Edge blurted, and Rydia raised her eyebrows, taking a sip of her tea. _Oh, you know, just begging for King Leviathan and Queen Asura to take me back…_

She set the cup down, her eyes cast to the floor. "The King and Queen…everyone in the Feymarch…they were petrified. It wasn't normal petrification that you could cure with magic. It was if…" She clutched her arm, her knuckles whitening with the effort. "…As if their very souls had been spirited away, leaving behind only empty shells. That was when I discovered I could no longer summon the eidolons…"

Golbez crossed his arms over his chest. _Just like Bahamut…and yet, that girl was able to summon Asura and Leviathan without problem. But neither of them recognized Fusoya…did she place them under a spell when she shackled them? Why can she summon eidolons when Rydia, their rightful master, no longer can?_

"The Red Wings stole King Giott's crystal?" Izayoi frowned, and Luca sighed.

"My father said the onslaught was perpetrated solely by a girl that could summon eidolons – she stole all of the other dark crystals as well. Rydia and I got to meet her for ourselves in the Sealed Cave – she zapped us to oblivion and left us for dead. She wasn't a Red Wing I'd ever seen, that's for sure!"

"The mysterious girl with turquoise hair," Edge muttered, and Luca slammed her first into the table.

"Yep, that's her! Did you guys run into her too?"

"On several occasions," Gekkou sighed. "I spotted her in a rotting crater between Damcyan and Fabul – she murdered a group of Fabul's highest ranking monks in the blink of an eye." When Rydia's face paled, he quickly appended his statement. "Neither Master Yang nor his family were among them."

"And we ran into her again in the Tower of Babil," Edge added. "She point-blank told us that Cecil was gathering the crystals…which would explain why she had control of the Red Wings."

"That has to be a lie!" Rydia sniffed. " _Why_ would Cecil…?"

"Ceodore has never seemed interested in becoming a soldier. You don't think Cecil forced Ceodore to join the Red Wings to gather crystals, do you?" Luca questioned, and Rydia let out a horrible wail that practically rattled the windowpanes. Everyone was waiting for a shriek from Rosa's mother to tell them to keep it down or to get out, but it never came.

"No, no…! None of this makes any sense! Cecil…let alone Rosa and Ceodore…and Cid too – they wouldn't stand for it!"

"But the Troians were preparing for war with Baron," Izayoi pointed out.

"And Mysidia was afraid as well," Tsukinowa shook his head. "The Elder sent Lady Porom to Mount Ordeals to find someone to fight on their behalf…"

Rydia ground her fists into her tearing eyes, shaking her head over and over. Edge pressed his head to his hands, letting out a shaky sigh. The mysterious girl's harsh speech before he had thrown himself out of the Tower or Babil came roaring back in his mind.

 _"But, despite all of this "love" people have for Cecil, he is a man that is truly, utterly alone in this world – a half-breed with one half of his soul on this planet, the other torn away, released into the infinite universe to forever wander. When he needed help, there was no one by his side, and now, he's…"_

"Can any of us really say that we've seen Cecil enough as of late to really know what he might be thinking?" Edge asked softly. "I don't think I've talked to him in months."

"Master Cid would have said something…!" Luca began, but Rydia shook her head. She recalled the way her heart had dropped into her stomach as Luca crash-landed their ship in Agart after the Red Wings had nearly shot them down – there was little room for interpretation of intent from those actions.

"…Perhaps Edge has a point. We're all just speculating…for better or worse." She gnawed on her lower lip as she shakily lifted her cup again. "So where does that leave us?"

"Well…" Zangetsu raised one finger. "It would seem that we've established that the four dark crystals are undoubtedly gone. We don't know the whereabouts of the Fire, Earth, Water and Wind crystals, but it's reasonable to assume they are in danger if the Tower of Babil has already been activated."

"Agreed," everyone except for Golbez replied cheerlessly. He continued to silently stare down his chest, his mind spinning at all of the troubling revelations that were being laid out about his little brother.

 _Cecil…you were supposed to go back home and live…to at last find the happiness I had been conspiring to take from you since the day you were born._ His eyes found Ceodore's portrait, and he felt a paralyzing chain of guilt wrap itself around his heart and squeeze the breath out of his lungs. _None of this is true, right? I left so that you never had to feel afraid again…what purpose would you have in gathering the crystals?_

Zangetsu flicked up his middle finger to accompany the first. "Two – Rydia can no longer summon eidolons, yet this mysterious girl most certainly can. And none of us understand her relationship with Baron other than the obvious complicity in obtaining the crystals…"

"Ugh…" Rydia tossed the rest of the scalding liquid down her throat, her eyes stinging.

"And three," Zangetsu raised his ring finger, "It would all seem this started with the return of the twin moon." He looked around, and Golbez shrank back slightly when Zangetsu's gaze rested on him for half a beat too long. "Does that sound about right to everyone?"

Edge raised his head from his hands, his eyes falling on Rydia. She parted her lips like she was going to say something, but the words died in her mouth as she stared down at him, her body tensed and taut against the counter.

"Actually, I don't think this started with the moon at all."

"Really?" Luca frowned. "Did something weird happen before the moon came back?"

"Sure," Edge blinked, pointing to her. "You were there, remember? It was nearly sixteen years ago. Cecil, Cid and the twins found Rydia sleeping in the crystal chamber of the Sealed Cave after something god-awful made a bunch of monsters in there go berserk. At her request, they brought her to the Tower of Babil. She could summon eidolons, and cast magic – although there was something undoubtedly off – Cecil had been worried something terrible had happened before they stumbled upon her. But then when the _real_ Rydia showed up, their little hitchhiker showed her true colors real quick and tried to bury us all."

"The girl who was pretending to be me?" Rydia blinked. "But I destroyed her – and I took the eidolons back, too!"

"But what if you _didn't actually kill her_?" Edge pressed, leaning across the table. The more he said out loud, the more his twisted theory had begun to make sense in his own mind – which brought him very little comfort. "What if that was just what she wanted us to think, because she had gotten what she needed at the time?"

"She was _pulverized_ by Meteor," Rydia frowned. "The only way someone could survive something like that was if they were immortal." Golbez clenched his jaw.

 _Yes, or they had a bunch of spare bodies._

Edge didn't say anything, and Rydia could feel her legs starting to fail her as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. If she hadn't been holding herself up on the counter, she would have collapsed into a puddle on the floor.

"…But then why after all this time…?" She shook her head, her face paling. "I mean…you're right – it's been nearly sixteen years! If you're saying what I think you're saying…it will have meant she's just been lurking around all this time, waiting for _something_ before she made her next move."

"And whatever it was, finally happened," Edge growled. "I don't think it was the twin moon – I think the moon returned as a _result_ of whatever it was she was waiting for. The wheels have been turning for quite some time now – it's that we're only just now waking up."

Golbez bowed his head. _Is this what the lunar crystals were warning us of when they woke Fusoya and I from stasis? What is that girl's relationship with the crystals…and with Cecil?_

Izayoi leapt up when she saw that Rydia was about to keel over. She grasped the summoner under her arm, gently escorting Rydia's sandbag-esque body to her now-vacant chair and setting her down. Rydia pressed her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes and taking deep, rattling breaths.

"Are you OK!?" Edge cried, practically diving across the table. Izayoi gave him a stern look, shoving him back to his own spot with an impatient grunt.

"Give her some air!"

"Miss Rydia?" Tsukinowa peered over Izayoi's body anxiously, which was blocking most of his view. "Master meant no harm with his words…please; tell me what I can do to help."

 _Something horrific was stalking my precious eidolons and my dearest friends this entire time…why,_ _ **why**_ _couldn't I have done more to stop her? If I hadn't been so obsessed with forcing my way into a place I no longer belonged, would I have realized something was wrong earlier?_ Rydia drew a sharp breath between clenched teeth, a streak of tears running down her face. _Cecil…I don't care what anyone else may tell me, or how long it's been…I know your heart – you will always be the knight that saved me from your own countrymen in that little Kaipo inn. I will never give up – not until I know the truth!_

Finally, she opened her eyes once more, smiling at Tsukinowa. Even if he hadn't been such a sweet boy, she felt she would have been drawn to smile in his presence – he reminded her so much of a younger, less coarse and more earnest version of Edge – it was obvious the influence Tsukinowa's master had on him was nothing but positive.

"I'll be all right – please forgive me for worrying you." She turned in her chair to face Edge, who was staring at her wide-eyed like she was a precious objet d'art in a glass case that was teetering on the ledge of a cliff. "But I feel like we're at a loss of how to reach Cecil – so I'd like to make a proposal, if it's OK with everyone."

"What's up, Rydia?" Luca tilted her head. "You have an idea?"

"Not really," Rydia shook her head. "But with everything that's happened – I'm really worried about Mist. Would it be all right if I stopped home and checked up on things? I won't take long…"

"Of course it's all right," Edge said quickly, jumping to his feet. "We'll leave right away. You're right – no sense in sticking around here and drawing attention to ourselves."

Rydia lifted her gaze to the man in black – she was hoping he would not object since he had been the one to originally set her and Luca on the path they had been pursuing before Edge showed up. He was staring at a pair of portraits hanging over the wall. Rydia recognized one of them as a young Rosa – it must have been painted years before they had met. Rydia had always been impressed by how well-traveled and mature Rosa had seemed when the two of them were brought together by Cecil – but in the portrait, she looked just like a regular, happy teenager who didn't yet have the burden of the world's condition laid at her feet. Rydia idly wondered if normally stoic and clueless Cecil had said or done something to make Rosa so joyful before she had sat for the portrait – Rydia recognized the glow in her eyes as one belonging to a girl deeply in love.

The other portrait was of Ceodore – it looked recent enough that Rydia thought perhaps it was from his fifteenth birthday that past winter, but she found herself momentarily shook at how grown-up he suddenly seemed to be. With his portrait hanging next to his mother's, it was even more obvious how much Ceodore looked like Rosa – but Rydia could see a lot of Cecil too. Not just in his beautiful, alien eyes, but in the elegant curve of his jaw that was at last emerging from the "baby fat" he had carried through his tween years, and the way he held his lithe, but strong shoulders with the same fragile confidence Cecil had when she had known him as a dark knight.

"That's the boy we're looking for, Prince Ceodore," Rydia offered, and the man raised his eyebrows.

"Ah, I see. Not really a boy though, it would seem."

"I suppose you're right," Rydia smiled. "He's already fifteen, and now a knight. I bet he would be offended if he heard me call him a boy. Don't say anything when we finally meet up with him, OK?"

"Perish the thought," he replied in his usual monotone – although Rydia could swear she saw the tiniest hint of a smile – well, perhaps if she squinted… She quickly turned away when he caught her staring.

Edge and the Eblan Four made their way into the parlor, preparing to make their exit. Tsukinowa was peering out the heavily curtained windows, trying to pick up on the routes the soldiers made between Rosa's mother's house and the village gateway that would take them to freedom. Izayoi and Zangetsu were debating the merits of casting an Illusion spell to mimic one of the soldiers, and Edge had pulled Gekkou aside, whispering hurriedly before Rydia, Luca and the man in black left the dining room. Edge could see that Rydia was already starting to feel better just from the prospect of visiting Mist – she had risen from her chair and was cheerfully leading the charge in straightening up the unused tea cups and supplies Joanna had suddenly abandoned. The man in black was pressed into a corner, watching Luca and Rydia silently, although Edge could tell his mind was a million miles away.

"Gekkou…from the moment we arrive in Mist and going forward, I want you to wait on the Falcon and keep guard with the other three."

"Master…" Gekkou raised a perpetually-sleepy brow. "…Do you not trust us to keep up? Maybe we didn't prove ourselves in the Tower of Babil after all?"

"No," Edge shook his head. "It's not like that. I need people I can trust implicitly with securing an escape, if we should need one. I can't take my eye off this man in black for a moment."

"I see," Gekkou replied, and Edge immediately got into huff, his cheeks reddening.

"What's that tone for!?"

"What tone?"

"That…that one right there!"

"That's how I always talk."

"Exactly! You always sound like you're talking to an idiot when you're talking to me!"

Gekkou's other eyebrow joined the first, and Edge crossed his arms over his chest, daring him to argue.

"Master..." Gekkou shook his head. He wasn't going to take Edge's bait today – not after the hellish twenty-four hours he had spent in the Underworld. "May I offer an uninformed opinion?"

"If you _must_ ," Edge sighed.

"My initial instinct tells me that this man means us no harm – and that better yet, he seems to have a good grasp on this mess we've suddenly been thrown into. Don't you think it's interesting that he knew to seek out the Tower of Babil, and that better yet, he was not afraid to do so? And here we are, effectively declaring war on Baron by trying to break into the castle and seek an audience with a recluse king – and he didn't even bat an eye. It would seem to me that he's willing to support whatever you and Miss Rydia have in mind."

"Sure, sure," Edge shrugged. "So he's not afraid to get himself killed – I can begrudgingly respect that as long as it's not my own men being careless with their lives. But what I can't respect is that he won't be straight with me. What does he have to hide? As far as I'm concerned, he's no better than the hell-raiser who stole Rydia's eidolons."

"I can't say if he's hiding anything, of course," Gekkou mirrored Edge's shrug. "But Miss Rydia seems to trust him – if you hold any stock in her judgment– and I get the impression you think highly of her in _many_ ways – perhaps you could focus more of your energy elsewhere."

Edge opened his mouth to argue, but took one look at Gekkou's calm, placating smile, and decided to give it up. The man was unflappable despite the many burdens Edge dumped on him – which just confounded Edge all the more. Even he couldn't stand himself most of the time – he had no idea how other people did it.

"Fine, fine – I'll try to back off a little," Edge relented. "But I was serious about you guys being my eyes on the Falcon while I'm away. I still don't trust him enough to leave Rydia alone."

"I will convey your wishes to the others when we have some privacy," Gekkou slightly tilted his head, and Edge saw that Rydia, Luca and their black-cloaked comrade were approaching.

"Do we have the all-clear to leave?" Rydia asked hopefully, and Tsukinowa let the curtain drop he had pinched between his fingers.

"It looks pretty safe." He gave her a wink, tugging up his cowl. "But if it comes to a fight, I'll definitely protect you!"

"Wow, what would your girlfriend in Mysidia say about that comment?" Izayoi giggled, and Tsukinowa blushed.

"She's _not_ my girlfriend!" He scratched his head, looking away. "She would have to know I exist, first…"

Rydia shook her head, chuckling as she ruffled his hair. "Aw. Don't give up, OK? Maybe when this is all over, you can properly introduce yourself to her – give her a compliment and use it to strike up a conversation! Girls really like that, you know."

He looked up at her with a sheepish grin, and she patted her hip, where her coiled whip hung, ready at a moment's notice to slay. Edge couldn't help but feel as if she were directing her voice toward him as she cut him a brief side-eye.

"Besides…I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

* * *

The flight to Mist was mercifully short – just a quick journey over the northern mountain range that bordered Baron, and plenty of flat grassland for them to land the Falcon, although there was evidence that a few small meteors had crashed from the storm. Rydia anxiously waited to disembark as Luca killed the engine and began her usual slew of end-of-flight prep. Rydia was only seconds away from just diving over the edge of the ship when Luca finally hit the button that would lower the ramp.

"I'll be back soon!" Rydia called over her shoulder, and Edge raised his hand in confusion.

"Wait…! We'll go with you…!"

Rydia didn't hear him as she pounded down the ramp, the wood panels buckling under her spiked heels as she elevated her pace to a clumsy jog. A tingly feeling spread over her scalp and down her neck as she laid eyes on the sloped, thatched roofing of the village homes and shops – none of the chimneys had smoke rising from within, and the air itself was eerily quiet – she didn't hear anyone working in the fields, playing with friends, or just lazily gossiping on the main drag. She had expected that by now there would have been at least one shout of surprise at the appearance of the Falcon – the ship was awfully loud. She also knew from visits from Cid and Luca on their respective ships that one could feel the wind generated by the rotors if you were anywhere in the valley, so it wasn't as if they had been stealthy with their arrival.

 _It doesn't look like any of the meteors actually crashed in town,_ Rydia frowned as she ran up the solitary dirt road that would deposit her in the heart of the village. _There are no downed trees, the buildings are all standing, undamaged... It's dark from the moon, but not so much that you can't see if you still needed to be outside. So where is everyone?_

"Hello?" Rydia called out, crossing the small community garden at the entrance of the village and running to her neighbor's house. No children were playing in the front yard, nor were any of them holed up in Rydia's apple trees next door. When no one responded to her greeting, she gave a forceful knock on the door, pushing up on her toes and peering anxiously into one of the upper story bedroom windows whose shade wasn't entirely pulled down.

"Hello? Is anyone home…? It's me, Rydia!"

But no movement came from inside – and the window remained dark.

She took a step backward on the stoop, a painful bubble of anticipation inflating in her stomach. She couldn't remember a day in her life that the family next door had never actually been around in some capacity – the matriarch had always seemed to have a little one to tend to, and her husband worked in the forge just across the lane. The older children never left town, and Rydia knew they didn't have family elsewhere – both parents had been teenagers when Mist burned to the ground and were each the sole survivors of their respective families. They had decided to make their lives in the newly-revitalized village and got married around the time Ceodore was born.

Cautiously, Rydia reached out, trying the door handle – but it was locked tight. Shaking her head, she took another step backwards, bumping into something unexpectedly warm and squishy and letting out a shriek.

"Ahhhhhh!"

"Whoa, girl!"

Rydia whirled around, pressing her hand to her chest as she gulped for breath. "Luca! Don't scare me like that!" The dwarven princess rested her hands on her hips, eyeing the house Rydia had just tried to enter.

"No one home?"

"No…" Rydia wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. "Isn't it too quiet?"

"Yeah, it's pretty quiet," Luca frowned, reaching up to adjust her visor from where Rydia had smashed it banging into her. "Your roomie home at your place?"

"I haven't tried yet."

The two of them walked next door, and Rydia tried the latch, only to find herself locked out of her own house.

"What the…?" Rydia furrowed her brow as she tugged harder and jiggled the door knob. "I…I didn't even know this door could lock."

"Are you serious?" Luca blinked, and Rydia nodded.

"Take a look around you…would you ever feel the need to lock your doors in a place like this?" Luca's gaze settled on the small pond next to which Rydia's mother was buried, a few other tiny houses that looked exactly alike in their simplicity and coziness, and finally, an inn that probably got one guest per year, if she were being generous – and it was probably King Edward or Master Cid when they came to visit.

"Uh…I guess you're right."

"I don't even have a key," Rydia frowned, collapsing on the front step and pressing her head to her hands. "This is insane…where did everyone possibly go?"

"There's no one at any of the shops," Edge's voice drifted over to them from a few yards away, and Rydia peered through the gaps between her fingers. Edge and the man in black were approaching them from across the street, with twin looks of concern plastered on their faces. Rydia felt another chill race up her spine, and she suddenly found herself wishing she could run into her own home and get a coat. Yes, the sun was being blocked by that dreadful moon, but…surely the planet wasn't freezing over already?

"Rydia…" the man in black squinted. "I can barely see you."

"What?" Rydia dragged her knuckles over her eyes before climbing back to her feet. Edge and the man in black had suddenly disappeared, and Luca was frantically spinning around, fading behind a curtain of white before Rydia's very eyes.

"Where'd those voices come from?" Luca blinked. "Edge…?"

Rydia gazed down at her hands, her eyes widening. Minute flecks of water were beading on her skin, a swirling white haze lacing between her fingers as she lifted them in the air.

"This mist…!" She gazed up toward the darkened sky, her heart pounding like a jackhammer as glittering particles began to dance around her. Someone was calling her name – it was faint, but she could still hear it over the roaring rush of blood pounding through her ears. "Mommy?"

"Huh?" Luca gasped, blindly reaching in front of her. "Rydia, where'd you go?"

"This must be the Mist Dragon's work..." Edge whispered, and the man in black nodded, even though no one else could see him.

"The mist itself is protecting the village, it would seem."

"Mommy?" Rydia tried again, her eyes watering as she unknowingly stumbled past Luca toward the pond she had spent so much time at as a little girl. She stopped when her boot splashed into water, and sank down to her hands and knees, the ends of her hair dipping into the stagnant pool as she stared at the quivering reflection before her. The girl staring up at her from the pond had a mop of untamed curls and a full, heart-shaped face, with dilated green eyes and a yellow cotton capelet thrown over her neck and shoulders.

 _This is me…my exact appearance the day Mist fell…I was here at this pond, reading with Mommy, when Cecil and Kain…_

"You must leave at once, Rydia..." the voice whispered, and both Rydia and her reflection blinked.

"Mommy! It is you…!"

"Rydia? Do you hear something?" Edge's boots crunched over the gravel walkway to her house.

"Dear Rydia – I cannot leave this village unguarded. Not for now. Once you have freed the Eidolons from enemy hands... I want you to return here once more."

"Free the Eidolons?" Rydia shook her head, a tear splashing down her cheek into the pond, sending her reflection into a fit of ripples. "It's different this time…sixteen years ago, I was able to call them back to my side. But now…" She thought of the deadened indifference in Titan's eyes as the shadow from his foot washed over her pathetic form back in Agart, poised to crush her into dust and return her to the planet she had once fought so desperately to save by his side.

She felt a warm rush of air on her cheek, the earthly scent carried with it so nostalgic that she feared her heart would burst from her chest. She closed her eyes, her reflection in the pond gazing up at her as the dewy shade of a woman drifted across the ripples and kissed the little girl's cheek.

"You have all that you need for the task, Rydia... I will be waiting for you..."

Rydia's eyes snapped open when she felt the hand on her shoulder. Tilting her head, she saw Edge kneeling beside her, his brow furrowed and his cowl pulled down around his neck. The delicate white scar that cut over his brow, just reaching above his eyelid, glowed like a beacon in the fading veil of the retreating mist. She silently lifted one hand, tracing the tip of her nail over the smooth indentation where hair no longer grew.

 _You got this when my imposter from sixteen years ago attacked you in the Tower of Babil. She had thrown you into a wall of glass, slicing you to ribbons in retaliation for revealing her true form. You had been the only one to know that she was a fake – you knew as soon as you laid eyes on her, even though she was a perfect replica._

 _You said it was nothing – that you would be back to normal in a flash after Rosa healed you._

 _But you walked away with an eternal reminder of the price of your loyalty – and as for me? I let everything that happened that day slip from my mind…_

"Rydia..." Edge reached up, capturing her fingers between his. "…Talk to me."

Rydia shivered from the warmth that exploded in her palm, resisting the urge to run her hand down the hollow of his cheek. Instead, she watched silently as he stood up, still clutching her hand in his. She followed his lead, rising with him and pushing the damp hair away that had fallen in her face, heavy with clinging droplets.

 _How could I have been blinded by despair for so long? With my friends by my side, I am unstoppable. I_ _ **will**_ _free all of the eidolons, and woe to anyone who stands in my way this time! I swear to it, Mommy!_

Rydia reluctantly released Edge's hand, a blush crawling up the sides of her face when she realized that Luca and the man in black were with them. The man in black was staring off toward the closed end of the valley that was collapsed under a mountain thanks to Titan and Rydia seventeen years prior, but Luca had a sneaky smirk on her face that told Rydia that the mist surrounding her and Edge might had dissipated faster than she thought. She looked across the pond toward her mother's grave, her fingers unconsciously curling into a fist. She felt Edge's hand over hers once more, his digits insistently entwining with hers – and this time, she could not bring herself to pull away.

"I know what we need to do to destroy the barrier surrounding Baron Castle."


	29. Act Twenty-Nine: The Summoner's Tale

Act Twenty-Nine: The Summoner's Tale | The Gathering

"Here's the map!" Luca exclaimed, waving a roll of parchment that was nearly as tall as she. "Anyone want to help me tack it up to the wall?"

Zangetsu and the man in black, the tallest among them, each took a side of the map after Luca uncoiled it and a nail from her outstretched hand. She retrieved her hammer from her tool belt, and Zangetsu taking it from her first.

Rydia was sitting on the edge of a bed in front of them, her chin cradled against her hand. Sitting next to her on the surrounding beds were Edge, Izayoi, Tsukinowa and Gekkou – they had all moved down to the rather impressive stateroom housed in the Falcon's hull. Luca had installed several beds and other living arrangements to make life on the ship more comfortable for the dwarves that would use it for long patrols or journeys across the Underworld to Tomra or Kokkol's smithy when the dwarven army would need to haul batches of supplies and weapons. It was roomy enough that everyone present could sleep with at least one empty bed between them – an appealing concept after the eight of them being jammed into Joanna's kitchen for their impromptu state of the union.

Once they were done hanging up the map, Luca retrieved yet more nails from the pouch on her hip, turning to Rydia.

"So, our objective is to find all the eidolons, right? And then you just need to tell them what's up and they'll join you again?"

"Well…more or less, I suppose," Rydia crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't quite understand how I am to do it…but the mist – my mother – said it could be done. So I guess I'll just have to take a leap of faith and do whatever my heart tells me when the time comes."

"And then you can use the eidolons' power to overpower the barrier protecting the castle!" Tsukinowa grinned.

"Right!" Rydia smiled slightly. Of course, the really hard part came _after_ that. They would have to confront Cecil, and would finally learn why Baron was gathering the crystals. Rydia desperately wished her mother had given her some sort of clue about what to do about that when the time came… Was there anyone on the planet who had any idea what Cecil might be thinking?

If it came down to it – would she really be able to fight the man who had changed the course of her life? _And if Rosa, Ceodore and Cid are involved as well…_ Her stomach twisted into itself just thinking about it. Edge searched her worriedly as Gekkou flopped back onto his bed, crossing his leg over one knee.

"So where do we think the eidolons are?" Gekkou asked. "Can they only manifest when the mysterious girl calls upon them? She summoned Ifrit to chase after us in the Tower of Babil…"

"Ifrit…" Rydia swallowed a sob, clutching crisp taupe sheets in her sweaty palm. "Him too…?"

"We have to assume all of the eidolons are under her control," Golbez said firmly, though not unkindly. He glared at the map behind him, holding out the hammer. "Luca, mark the Eblan region for Ifrit."

"Got it," Luca said, and proceeded to bang a nail in the space between the Tower of Babil and Eblan Castle.

"Normally, eidolons only walk our plane when they have been summoned," Rydia finally offered as a reply to Gekkou's inquiry, having pulled herself together enough to speak. She was painfully aware of the seven pairs of eyes that were trained on her now – looking to _her_ for their next move. It was a feeling she wasn't used to – she had always relied on Cecil, and to a lesser extent, Edge, to lead them to their battles – the grown-ups, according to her time-warped mind.

 _But things are different now. I can't let the impostor beat me – if I give in to sorrow, it will mean she has already won._

"However, that's not to say that they can't come and go as they please – Titan would frequently visit me as a child even though I didn't properly call upon him. And if they _are_ summoned, they can remain on the plane until they are dismissed or…incapacitated."

She heard another nail striking into the wall, and looked up to see Luca hammering in the Agart region. Rydia raised her eyebrows, the man in black turned to meet her stare.

"Titan only faded away when I parried his attack – I made the effort not to fatally wound him. He could still be wandering the region – the girl was nowhere to be seen while we were there, right? She might have summoned him long ago and left to gather the rest of the crystals."

"…You're right," Rydia nodded, her voice quivering as she pulled her knees against her chest.

 _He tried not to hurt Titan on purpose? To the untrained eye, Titan has the appearance of any other monster…did he know Titan was an eidolon when he saved me…? How…?_

"If I may make an observation?" Zangetsu stroked the wisp of his goatee, slowly making his way down the length of the map. "Perhaps the mysterious girl planted the eidolons in various regions as a security measure. Both the Tower of Babil and Agart are valuable gateways – one to the interdimensional elevator, and the other to the Underworld, the domain of four of our eight crystals."

"That's a good point," Izayoi said. "It wouldn't be too outrageous to assume that she had eidolons planted near the surface world crystals as well, right?"

"That means Mysidia, Troia, Damcyan and Fabul go on the list as well," Edge gave a hopeful smile. "But our comrades there would not let the crystals fall into enemy hands so easily – maybe there's a chance they are still fighting her off."

"If she's using eidolons as her guard dogs, I would not be so sure," Rydia said quietly, recalling the devastation Titan had managed to wreak in just the small amount of time Rydia and Luca had been trying to placate him. "If our theory is correct…then with every second that passes, our friends will only be in greater danger."

"So where to first?" Luca asked. She had planted nails over the cities of Mysidia, Troia, Damcyan and Fabul, stuffing the remaining ones back in her pouch. "If our friends are fighting, we need to help them as soon as possible."

"Uh…can we go to Mysidia!?" Tsukinowa suddenly burst out, leaping up from where he was sitting next to Izayoi. "The Elder had sent Lady Porom to Mount Ordeals…if both she and Palom are gone, there may not be anyone there who can defend Mysidia if an eidolon is there…" He lowered his head, knotting his fingers together anxiously. All evidence of his normal, cheerful demeanor had been wiped off his face. "I guess I'm more worried than I thought…"

 _Oh, of course…the girl he likes lives there,_ Rydia pressed her fingers to her lips. _Even though he's one of Edge's elite soldiers, he's still just a child…he and Ceodore must be terrified right now!_ The more she thought about it, the more intensely her blood began to boil – why had she fought so fiercely in the war if more innocent children were just going to be dragged into devastation once more?

 _I won't let Tsukinowa…or anyone else…lose their loved ones to the madness of war ever again!_

Rydia rose to her feet. "Luca, set a course for Mysidia."

"Aye-aye," Luca nodded, turning to rush up the stairs that would take her to the upper deck. Tsukinowa suddenly threw his arms around Rydia, the force of his hug knocking her back down into the bed.

"Ack!" Rydia squealed, and Tsukinowa sniffled against her chest, on the verge of bawling.

"Thank you so much Miss Rydia…!"

"Hey…hey…!" Edge reddened, lifting Tsukinowa by his cowl and dangling him above the floor. "That's not cute at your age!"

"It's OK…" Rydia laughed nervously, flopping the rest of the way back against the bed and closing her eyes. "On second thought, I think I may just stay down here and try to get a little sleep until we land."

"Do you want company?" Edge asked a little too eagerly, to which Rydia responded by planting her boot firmly in his thigh, spiked heel-first. Edge stumbled backward, a string of curses erupting like a volcano as he dropped Tsukinowa to the floor in a squirming heap. Izayoi and Gekkou giggled silently behind him, while Zangetsu and Golbez averted their gaze, both pretending to suddenly be fascinated by the map before them.

"…No thank you!"

* * *

Luca zipped up her shop romper, shivering as the first fat drop of rain hit her cheek, followed quickly by another, and another, until a procession of showers swept over the Falcon's deck. Glancing behind her, she saw that Tsukinowa and Izayoi were descending below in quite a hurry – they and the man in black had been the only ones to eventually follow her upstairs when she left to prepare for their flight to Mysidia. Calca and Brina had fled downstairs as well – their programmed protocol that acted as their "instinct" told them not to get wet so that Luca didn't have to worry about them getting fried.

The closer they had gotten to their destination, the darker it had gotten – a look through Luca's scope confirmed that a nasty storm front was hanging over the Mysidia continent, although it didn't appear to be moving in any direction – it was as if it were anchored to that one spot, even though the winds were gusting so powerfully that Luca could feel the Falcon being sped along. If they had not wanted to go to Mysidia, they would have had a hell of a time trying to ride out of this storm – perhaps he gods were on their side, for once.

She heard a soft click, and turned to see the man in black next to her, collapsing the scope in his hands. His silver hair was whipping back in the windstorm like a kingdom's standard in the middle of a battlefield, a distant strike of lightning illuminating the trails of water the rain left on his skin as it slammed into his chest and legs. He was getting soaked to the bone – and while she whole-heartedly appreciated the view, she thought it was perhaps a bit rude to use her standing as a princess to keep him around just for decorum's sake. He seemed like the type of guy who was into the whole chivalry thing, but only when he wasn't talking. Whenever he did deign to speak, nothing courtly ever seemed to actually come out, and the illusion was shattered.

"You don't have to stay out here," Luca offered. "I've flown in much worse before – I'll be OK on my own."

"I had no concerns about that. It's just that I have no business downstairs," the man in black replied bluntly, and Luca inwardly groaned.

 _Bye-bye, fantasy of making Palom jealous…_

He arched his brow at the strange look on her face, and she quickly turned her attentions back to flying. "Do you find it odd that the storm is not moving?"

"…Yeah." Luca dragged her sleeved across her goggles to clear away the fog. "I'm kinda thinking this isn't a normal storm."

"I, as well," he crossed his arms, fixing his stare at the shadow of the Tower of Prayer that was starting to slowly flicker into view. Luca watched as another slash of lightning tore through the sky, her heart involuntarily leaping into her throat as she saw a mote of haunting violet light illuminate in the man's eyes.

 _There is something about this man that is just so familiar…at first, Rydia and I were afraid of him, yet we didn't refuse his offer to escort us to the Tower of Babil. I know she felt it too – the irresistible allure of the nostalgia you get when you reunite with an old friend or lover…so powerful that you forget everything terrible that drove you apart in the first place._

 _…But this man has never been a friend of either of ours – I know that much for certain. And yet…_

She watched out of the corner of her eye as the man approached the bow of the ship, another violent gust of wind making his cape crack against the sky. He peered up at the twin moon, hanging heavier in the sky than ever, twilight flooding his gaze as his fingers clutched the Falcon's railing. A thin haze of mist was dancing over his skin, giving him an ethereal aura thanks to the moon's failing light.

 _Such mournful eyes…I swear, it's as if Cecil's ghost is standing before me…_

She shuddered, reaching up to wipe her goggles again. When she blinked, the man was back to his normal coloring, still staring up at the moon.

 _What the hell am I thinking? Cecil isn't dead…_

Luca took her time making the Falcon's descent. Thanks to the storm and the premature darkness permeating the land, it was difficult for her to suss out a landing place that wasn't riddled with meteorite pock marks. The man in black offered his assistance by being her eyes in the pockets of dusk that she could no longer see, and eventually, the ship was lowered to the ground with a series of protesting groans and crunching gears. This served as the call for all-hands on deck, and the others, with the exception of the dolls, surfaced a few minutes later.

Rydia was sleepily rubbing her eyes as she staggered up last, a squall of rain smacking her in the face as soon as she stepped through the threshold.

"It's storming!?" Rydia blinked as she lowered her hands and gazed up at the bruised sky. "Did I seriously sleep through all this?"

"You were out like a light," Edge shook his head. "I don't think you would have woken up if we had crashed."

"Not funny," Rydia and Luca barked at the same time, remembering their last emergency landing in Agart after being chased by the Red Wings. Edge held up his hands, taking a step back.

"We'll guard the ship while you investigate," Gekkou said. It was obvious to all that Gekkou was including the rest of the Eblan Four in his declaration. Rydia whirled around to face him, shaking her head.

"In a storm like this? Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"All the more reason, Miss Rydia," Zangetsu bowed his head slightly. "If something should happen where you need to escape, we'll be prepared to depart. If the crystal is there, we'll want to secure it as quickly as possible, yes?"

"Um…!" Tsukinowa stepped forward, but then paused when Gekkou tilted his head ever so slightly, and looked down at his feet instead. "I…I wish you good luck."

"He can't come with us?" Rydia blinked. "He's clearly worried about his friend." Gekkou shook his head.

"I need him here with me. Don't worry – I assure you Tsukinowa understands."

"Edge?" Rydia turned her pleading glance upon him, which would have almost been enough for him to entirely revoke the order he had given Gekkou earlier back in Baron (and while she was at it, she could have probably also requested that he run a lap around the village naked with a lightning rod in-hand and gotten an enthusiastic "yes"). But when he spotted the man in black waiting for them at the ramp, staring daggers at the skies above, he suddenly remembered that they were not exactly among friends – and for all they knew, could be in very close proximity to a crystal…who knew how their new "companion" would react if it was revealed to be theirs for the taking?

"Gekkou is the boss," Edge shrugged, and Rydia gave up, shooting Tsukinowa an apologetic look as she turned to follow the man in black and Luca off the ship. Edge took up the rear, silently thanking Gekkou for keeping his promise as he tugged his cowl back up over his face. Behind him, he could hear the ramp lifting away from the ground as they plunged into the meadowlands.

"We'll make our way for the Tower of Prayer immediately," Rydia explained. "And ask the Elder to brief us about why he sent Porom to Mount Ordeals – he must have been desperate to send her on such a risky mission."

"Tsukinowa told me something interesting when we were scaling the Tower of Babil," Edge said. "Supposedly, the Elder was trying to hunt down Kain Highwind – I wonder if that's where they thought he could be found."

Edge nearly smacked into Rydia in the middle of talking, she had stopped so abruptly. She spun around, her eyes wide and questioning. Luca and the man in black hesitated for a moment, but decided to keep going ahead.

"Kain? He's _alive_?"

"I don't know," Edge blinked. "I wasn't there, remember? But that is an awfully specific name – I doubt Tsukinowa heard it incorrectly. He wouldn't even know who that man was to infer if the Elder had been talking about someone else."

Rydia shook her head, her hair now so sodden that it didn't move from where it was plastered against her head and chest.

"Does Cecil know? He couldn't possibly…he'd be by Kain's side in a second if he had any idea…"

"Maybe the Elder wanted to seek out Kain specifically to talk to Cecil…" Edge lowered his gaze. "…Perhaps he suspects…"

"No!" Rydia cried, pressing two fingers to Edge's mouth. He glanced up at her with a half-smile and she withdrew them, her cheeks on fire.

"I-I'm sorry. I just…I can't bear the thought of…"

"AHHHHHH!"

Edge and Rydia spun around toward the entrance of the village – the most-definitely female scream had erupted from there over the bellow of the winds, and Luca and the man in black were no longer in their sights.

"Luca!" Rydia gasped, taking off into a run. Edge withdrew his dagger, dashing past her and bursting through the village gates. It didn't take long for him to spot Luca in the gloom-filled, flooded streets – her bubblegum pink romper was the only burst of color in the ashen and mud-streaked boulevard in which she was standing. She was hovering over a still body, screaming her lungs off for someone to come and help.

Edge ran to her side, panting as he slid to a stop on a patch of slick grass that was streaked with rain and something much darker that he could only imagine was leaking from the body before them. It was a white mage, her eyes screwed shut and her mouth contorted in a painful grimace. Her hood was thrown back, exposing tendrils of choppy black hair to the mud and rain, and her hand was tightly clasped over her stomach. Her breathing was shallow enough that Edge could still make out she was alive – but just barely.

"What happened?!" Edge cried, and Luca shook her head.

"I don't know…we just came in and I found her like this…"

"Where is he!?"

Luca didn't have to ask who Edge was talking about. She pointed further up the street, where the man in black was kneeling over another body, his back to the two of them. Edge growled in his throat, and Luca grabbed his arm, biting her lip.

"Hey! He didn't DO anything. Calm down!"

"Edge, Luca!" Rydia cried, running up to them. "What's going on? Everywhere I look, there's…!" She trailed off, her words slurring into a low wail.

The man in black joined the three of them moments later, shaking his head.

"He's dead…" He gestured toward the body he had been tending to, which now had a black mage's traditional straw hat pulled down over the face. "And it looks like there are plenty more like him."

"What the hell happened here?" Edge muttered, kneeling down as he placed a palm over the ailing girl's chest, his index and middle fingers pressed into her sternum. His fingertips began to glow a pale blue as he muttered an incantation, infusing the white mage with pulsing light. When he lifted his hand, she let out a groan, her head lolling to the side.

"This is the best I can do," Edge said softly, hoisting her up over his shoulder. "Ninjitsu healing magic doesn't hold a candle to what a white mage can do, but it should keep her alive for now." Rydia, Luca and the man in black watched as Edge hauled her over to a nearby weapon shop. He first tried the door, which was locked. Glowering, he rounded a corner and lowered her into a semi-sheltered alley. Swallowing back her tears, Rydia ran across the street to what appeared to be an inn, yanking on the door with all her strength and banging upon it when it became evident that it would not give.

"Please, open up! We need help…!"

"It's just like Mist," Luca whimpered. "But there's obviously been a battle here…are we too late?" After a few moments, Rydia gave up on the inn, dejectedly returning to the group.

The four of them proceeded north toward the looming Tower of Prayer, which had no sign of light or life reflected from within – all of the windows were darkened and slammed shut. Another flash of lightning exploded when they reached the tower's courtyard, illuminating a devastating mess of yet more fallen mages half-buried in scorched flower beds and overturned, shattered cobblestones that left gaping holes in the walkway.

"Palom! Porom! Elder!" Luca began to scream as she ran for the tower doors. Edge and the man in black checked each body's vitals, and Rydia drifted through the carnage like a ghost, her eyes stinging with un-spilled tears. Just as she stumbled over the crumbling top step of the tower entrance, a tremendous thunderclap exploded above, sending the entire village into a fit of tremors. Rydia screamed as the rest of the step collapsed beneath her feet from the quake, sending her crashing face-first into a darkened puddle that tasted like dirt and something disturbingly brackish as the water was forced down her throat. Gasping for air as she simultaneously tried to force herself to throw up the disgusting taste burning in her mouth; she pushed herself up by her arms, her vision fuzzy as she tried to focus on the pool of black before her. Her left knee felt like it had been replaced by a rapidly-filling water balloon – she wasn't ready to try to get up quite yet.

"Rydia!" the man in black yelled from above. "Are you OK?"

Rydia groaned as she spit up a mouthful of vomit, her head spinning from the fresh rush of defilement on her tongue. She watched as the puddle she had fallen into began to ripple delicately, and heard the footsteps approaching just before the gleam of a platinum-coated, ruby-topped staff appeared in the reflection of the water.

"No…" Rydia moaned, her head collapsing in her arms as she whimpered to herself. "... Not you, too...I didn't want to believe she had truly taken all of you…"

"What?" Edge and Luca called from above. She heard pounding footsteps approaching from behind, and opened her eyes one last time only to be blinded by the violet-white light that crashed down all around her, her ears throbbing with the deafening roar. She threw her head back, screaming over the lightning until her throat was bloodied and raw.

"Ramuh, _stop this_!"

A pair of arms lifted her from the ground and she felt herself soaring through the curtain of light, her soaked clothes and hair protecting her from the singeing sparks emanating over her like the mists of a waterfall. When she dared to open her eyes, she found herself being lowered to the ground by the man in black, who had his sword cocked in one hand.

"Still alive?" He grunted, and she nodded. A piercing whistle shot past her ear, and she watched as a pair of shuriken lodged themselves into Ramuh's snowy beard and ivory robes, sending the old man reeling back a few feet as a riot of red began to erupt over his chest.

"Rydia!" Edge leapt to her side from the courtyard above, grasping her shoulders. "The Tower of Prayer is locked – Luca is trying to pick it so we can escape. We need to buy her some time. What do we need to do to save Ramuh?"

"I…" Rydia's gaze flickered from Edge to Ramuh, who was using his staff as a crutch while plucking the meddlesome shuriken from his chest. The man in black was shielding them, the curve of his ebony blade catching in the dying embers of the lightning storm as he pointed it toward the throat of the approaching thunder god. She lowered her eyes, slumping under Edge's hands. "I don't KNOW! I can't bring myself to hurt him, no matter how much he hurts us!"

"Hrgh!" the man in black moaned as he met Ramuh's staff with his blade, pressing forward with his feet sinking into the mud from the effort. "His lightning storms must be what got the villagers – the entire storm on the continent is his doing, and that's why it's not moving like a normal weather pattern. If he hits us directly, we're not going to survive it!"

"I know that!" Rydia cried, wincing as the man threw Ramuh off and sent him careening into the brick wall that guarded the Tower of Prayer. He sank down into a stunned pile of hair and robes, his eyes flashing red as he slowly fixed his glare upon them. Another peel of thunder rolled across the sky, and Rydia felt her stomach sink as a swirling magenta maelstrom began to twist into formation in the skies above, pulsing with flashes of distant lightning. "But we can't kill him, either!"

She yanked away from Edge, forcing her legs to run as hard as she could manage toward the eidolon, even as her lungs felt like they were about to explode out of her chest.

"Rydia!" Edge screamed. "Wait!"

Rydia collapsed to her knees before Ramuh, clutching his gnarled hand in her own as she raised her eyes to his. "Ramuh, please...you have to remember me!" She bit her lip as she ran her fingers over the glistening pietersite stones that made up the stacks of rings on his hand – she knew that the storms Ramuh was infamous for breeding that acted as the womb for his ultimate judgment bolt were born from these tempest stones. "I know you well..."

Ramuh responded by lifting his staff and smashing it against Rydia's head. She shrieked as she fell over, stars exploding in her eyes as she felt the first trails of warm blood run down her temple and soak into her hair. She could see the new storm opening above them growing larger and larger – crackling electricity was dancing in the air, making her muscles twitch with fearful anticipation as her body ignored her mind's urges to get back up and flee.

Golbez watched as Rydia slumped to the ground, grinding his teeth. He was playing a dangerous waiting game – he didn't want a repeat performance of what had happened to Asura and Leviathan on the moon, but he knew Rydia was in terrible danger. The storm forming above her would burst to life at any moment – he could only pray that he would get to her in time if that's what it came down to.

"Rydia…" Edge panted as he caught up to the man in black, pressing his hands to his knees as he gulped air and glared at him out of the corner of his eye. "Why are you just standing there?!"

"Because he _knows_ I'm a threat. He can smell the blood of his brethren on my blade. One false move and I'll seal Rydia's fate. You'd be wise to let her try things her way first."

"Her way is going to get her killed," Edge spat. "Can you live with that?"

Golbez turned away, sheathing his sword.

 _Do I have to choose which body to add to the already lengthy list I_ _ **do**_ _have to live with? Another eidolon or another human? Can we really not save both?_

Rydia moaned as she raised herself from the ground, hearing a soft "pling" as she lifted her head. Her hyacinth hairpin had loosened from her hair and had fallen to the broken walkway. Another snarl of thunder washed over them, causing the cluster of rubies to vibrate airily as she scooped the hairpin back into her hands, turning back to Ramuh.

"You are kind and gentle!" Rydia whispered, scooting forward as the increasing spill of blood from her head obscured the sight in her right eye. Ramuh slammed his staff down dangerously close to her thigh, the violet light of his storm saturating her form. She winced as she lifted the hyacinth back to her hair, her fingers shaking so badly that she couldn't steady them long enough to fasten the clasp. A warning bolt of lightning exploded behind her, the piercing light reflecting off the hyacinth and flashing in Ramuh's eyes. The thunder god let out a high-pitched shriek, dropping his staff and covering his face as he cowered back against the garden wall.

"What the…?" Edge blinked. "What just happened?!"

"The light from her hair ornament disoriented him," Golbez frowned. Edge stood there, gaping, and Golbez gave him a hard shove. "If you're going to save her, do it now, you fool!"

"Er, right!" Edge nodded, stumbling forward under the man in black's strength. Rydia was staring at Ramuh, dumbstruck, her hands frozen in place as the red reflection of the hyacinth danced over Ramuh's contorted face. Edge slid in behind her, grabbing her arms.

"Come on Rydia, time to go!"

"No, wait!" Rydia gasped, handing the hyacinth to Edge and throwing herself onto Ramuh. She tugged down his hands insistently, digging her fingers into his tissue-paper thin cheeks and forcing him to look at her. The red glare in his eyes had faded and his eyelids were fluttering rapidly in confusion.

"Ry...dia!" Ramuh wheezed, and Rydia screamed in delight, pressing her lips to his forehead and bursting into tears.

"You're awake! Praise the gods, you've returned to me!"

"Indeed I have," Ramuh groaned, and with a snap of his fingers, the storm threatening to burst over them dissipated into nothingness, easy as that. "Are you all right, my child?"

"I will be," Rydia smiled, pulling away. "As soon as I find the others, I will be whole again!"

"And I will be at your beck and call, should you need aid in doing so," Ramuh bowed his head, bursting into a glittering cloud of green and yellow crystalline light. Rydia slumped to the ground, laughing happily as she swiped the blood out of her eyes and reveled in the warm light coating her skin.

 _I did it, Mommy…I saved Ramuh!_

"You were amazing," Edge said softly, and Rydia spun around to face him. He was holding out her hairpin, a drop of rain sliding down one of the ruby petals toward the crystal-inlaid core. Rydia took it from him, turning it in her fingers and shaking her head in amazement.

" _Something_ about that light woke him up…it was nothing short of a miracle," she looked up at Edge, hope alit in her eyes. "Maybe _this_ is the key to waking up the others as well?"

"Who gave you that?" the man in black asked, slowly approaching them. Rydia slid the hairpin back into her hair, clicking the fastener shut.

"The Queen of the Eidolons, Asura. Long ago, when I first came to the Feymarch during the war," Rydia closed her eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. "She never indicated that it had any special powers though – I thought it was just a pretty trinket she wanted me to have."

"Rubies are supposed to symbolize deep love and courage," the man in black said. "It's also used to banish nightmares. Perhaps that's why she wanted you to have it?"

Rydia slowly opened her eyes, her heart pounding as she took in the man's words. She recalled the last time she had seen Asura alive – only days ago, but what now felt like a lifetime. Asura had offered one of her knowing smiles, pressing her fingers over left temple as she did so. Rydia had unconsciously mimicked her, remembering the cold caress of the ruby beneath her fingertips as Asura had given her final decree.

 _"There is nothing to fear."_

"I…" Rydia felt the tears spill once more, biting down on her lip. "I had no idea…"

 _Asura…you knew what was to come…and still, you had faith in me until the very end…you didn't hate me at all, did you?_

The man in black looked uncomfortable at this sudden deviation in mood, and spun on his heel. "I'm going to see about the progress Luca has made with the tower…"

Rydia looked to Edge, wiping her eyes as the man in black made his getaway.

"So now that we know what to do, the rest of these should be pretty easy, right?" Edge smiled, and Rydia giggled despite herself.

"Yeah, totally," she tilted her head, smiling back. "Thanks for having enough faith in me to let me try things my way first. I'm aware that it was totally reckless and foolish on my part."

"Eh…" Edge shrugged, blushing and turning away. "You probably should save your thanks for him." He nodded toward the black cape that was disappearing back up the stairs toward the tower. "He kind of talked me off the ledge."

"Oh?" Rydia blinked. "Does that mean you trust him now?"

"No, not at all!" Edge barked, waggling his finger. "He still knows way too much that he's not telling us. How can you possibly want to keep on going with this charade?"

"For the same reason that I didn't ask Cecil to leave your shady behind in the Cave of Eblan when we found you planted in the ground by Rubicante," Rydia frowned. Edge stared at her dumbly, and she threw her hands up in the air.

"Because of what I felt in my heart! Because I just had a feeling that our meeting wasn't by chance, OK? Do I have to spell it out?"

"Yes," Edge nodded seriously, and Rydia rolled her eyes, stomping away in lieu of replying.

 _He's such an idiot!_

"Rydia!" Luca exclaimed, waving her hand giddily. "We're ready to break into the tower!"

"Please don't say it like that," Rydia groaned, taking the latch of the door into her hand. "We're probably going to have a dozen staves and rods pointed in our direction when we enter, so just be cool, OK?"

"I'm always cool," Luca pouted. "I mean, my cheating, bastard boyfriend could be in here right now, and I'm not even breaking a sweat about it."

"…Yeah, you're really convincing me," Rydia sighed, tugging the door open. "…And don't think I didn't notice you said " _boyfriend"_. We're having a serious talk later."

The four of them were greeted by total darkness – not even a single candle was flickering in the sconces that lined the entryway. Rydia took a few hesitant steps forward, noticing that both the classrooms and the bedrooms on either side of her were totally abandoned.

"Hello? Is anyone here? Ramuh is gone…it's safe to come out now!"

"Let's check the crystal chamber," Edge said, and Rydia nodded. No one had replied to her plea.

They climbed the stairs that took them to the next level of the tower, and the crystal chamber. Rydia once again took the lead, pushing the door open and nearly falling over in shock.

Porom was standing atop the crystal dais, clutching a winged mythril staff with one bandaged, bloodied hand, the other caked in streaked mud and bruises. Her pink hair was half-hanging out of her ponytail, purple circles embossed beneath her wary, bloodshot eyes as she took in the new visitors.

"Porom!" Rydia cried. "Are you OK?"

"Rydia?" Porom smiled slightly, her legs bowing. "Thank heavens..."

And with that, she collapsed over the dais, her staff bouncing down the stairs and sliding to a stop at Rydia's feet. Rydia kneeled down, shakily picking it up as Edge and Luca raced for the dais. There had been no shining curtain of light revealed when Porom had fallen…it was evident that the Crystal of Water was long-gone.

 _Porom...!_

* * *

Izayoi pressed her crimson lips together in concentration as she finished the last of the wrapping around Porom's pinky, applying a small bead of adhesive Luca had fetched for her from the ship's first aid kit. She then took Porom's hand and gently laid it over the girl's stomach, giving it a final pat.

"There. As long as you don't fuss with it too much, my Heal Salve spell will have this mended in no time. It's important that you let the bandage keep it in place though – you want the bone to set properly."

"Thanks…" Porom's eyes fluttered open, and she grimaced as she tried to sit up. Rydia leaned over, propping another pillow behind Porom's neck before she had to ask. The white mage smiled gratefully, a blush crawling over her cheeks. "I don't know how long I would have been able to keep going if you guys hadn't have shown up."

Rydia sat back, shaking her head. "It's a miracle we didn't find you in _worse_ condition. I can't believe the Elder carried you all the way back to the tower on his own, too. You Mysidians are resilient, that's for sure."

Porom sighed. "No, it's just that he's a madman. I thought for sure he was gone after Ramuh's first attack – the last thing I remember is passing out on top of him in the street. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the crystal chamber, and one of the other mages told me the Elder had sealed himself at the top of the tower to fend off Ramuh – everyone in town who hadn't been struck down in the first wave of attacks had evacuated to the tower."

"Which explains why the door was locked shut," Edge said, and Porom nodded.

"Are you sure it's not a burden, keeping me on the Falcon like this? The Elder seemed a little too insistent on you taking me along…I think he doesn't want me to see how injured he truly is – he really went too far, this time." She swiped away a tear, shivering. "He looked so small and frail in his bed…why doesn't he want me around to take care of him?"

"You're not a burden," Rydia frowned. "Not to us, nor the Elder. There isn't a single free bed in the Tower of Prayer right now…how are you going to take care of _yourself_ if you don't have a place to lay your head? He knows you would go crazy if you were trapped in that tower, unable to help yourself or the villagers who got hurt. You _want_ to be here, don't you? He gave the order so that you didn't have to ask."

"Irk…" Porom sniffled, her bangs flopping in her eyes. "…I guess you're right. And I do want to be here, with you guys – more than anything. Meghan, the white mage leading the charge in the Elder's care – she is truly one of the best. She'll make sure he's OK…"

Luca had been impatiently hovering around Porom waiting for her turn to speak, and she finally struck when there was a brief break in Porom's lamentations. "Where is Palom?"

Porom looked up at Luca, shaking her head. "He went to Troia, but I don't know anything more than that. I haven't seen or heard from him in a month." She stared down at the half-melted, tarnished star rings that she had been clutching in her hand – Izayoi had needed to cut them off of her finger when it came time to tend to her wounds, but Porom wouldn't let her throw them away. "Unfortunately, I fear for the worst…I had a very auspicious feeling before I lost consciousness."

Rydia raised an eyebrow. "We saw him from the Falcon just a few days ago. He was riding on a black chocobo."

"Troia..." Edge muttered, glancing up at the map hanging behind them. Porom's eyes lit up.

"Really? So maybe he's OK after all?"

Golbez cleared his throat. He hated to crash what sounded like a minor celebratory moment, but they were still _technically_ dealing with a catastrophe here. "What of the Water Crystal?"

Porom lowered her gaze, closing her fingers over the rings once more. "It's been taken. Kain fled to Baron with it after I found him on Mount Ordeals."

"Kain did what!?" Edge cried, and Porom winced from the sudden noise. Rydia smacked Edge on the back, and he shot Porom an apologetic frown.

Porom bit her lip. "He...he said he was going to _kill_ Cecil. There was a woman there – someone I had never seen before – she was the one who summoned Ramuh. Kain told her he would give her the crystal for an audience with Cecil – all so that he could kill him with his own hands."

"You're joking!" Rydia gasped. "Why would Kain be in hiding all this time, only to surface now so he can trade a crystal for Cecil's life?"

Edge shook his head. "Ridiculous! That just can't be true. Are we sure the mysterious girl just wasn't playing some sort of dirty trick?"

"I assure you, I'm telling the truth," Porom glowered, raising her bandaged hand. "This was a little gift from Kain when I dared to question his motives for myself."

Rydia gently pushed Porom's hand back down, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to imply you were making something up…but now it just begs the question of what purpose Kain has in this mess too. It's obvious that the mysterious girl is obtaining crystals on Baron's behalf – but why would Kain go through her to get to Cecil? They're best friends – or at least they _were_ – Cecil would welcome him back with open arms and no questions."

"Baron is behind that girl's madness?" Porom gasped. "I thought they had been _attacked_ – a horde of monsters brought down the Red Wings fleet that Prince Ceodore was on, killing everyone except for him. Those monsters were headed straight for Baron – Ceodore was desperate to get home so he could find Cecil and Rosa."

"That must have been before he asked Amelia for the waterway key," Luca frowned. "And if the real Red Wings are dead…it definitely means the ones who attacked my castle were frauds! Did Ceodore go back to Baron alone?"

"No," Porom shook her head. "I couldn't go with him, but I sent two mages in my stead. In addition, he had a man with him that I didn't know. Ceodore seemed to be safe with him – I didn't ask many questions." She bit her lip, stifling a sob. "Ah gods, I should have just gone with him…! Who knows what danger he's been thrown into because of my negligence?"

"Porom!" Rydia cried, resting her hand on the girl's shuddering shoulders. "If you had gone to Baron, something much worse could have happened in Mysidia. You can't possibly blame yourself for doing what was right at the time." Porom buried her face in her hands, ignoring the shooting pain exploding out of her bandages.

"She needs to rest," Izayoi said firmly. "None of this excitement is going to help her heal any faster." Porom slumped underneath Rydia's hand, letting out another pathetic wail.

"Ceodore is fine – I know he is," Edge said, rising to his feet. "If he was clever enough to get back to Baron on his own, then I have no doubt he's found a way to keep himself safe. Besides, you said he had someone with him, right? So he's not _totally_ fending for himself."

"I suppose," Porom relented, shaking her head. _But if Kain is after Cecil…who is to say he wouldn't slay Cecil's son, as well? The poor boy would never see it coming…Kain has never been part of his life._

Izayoi crossed her arms, jabbing one manicured nail toward Porom. "You need to get some sleep," she shot Edge a look, and Rydia watched him recoil with amusement, "And you four have other eidolons to retrieve."

"She's right," Edge flushed. "Izayoi is always right when she speaks – that's just a hint for the rest of you for next time she loses her temper so that I don't have to scrape you off the walls later. So…where to next?"

Rydia ignored Edge's attempt at injecting humor into their otherwise pretty damn depressing day, sadly watching as Porom shrunk beneath her covers, her eyes watering as she closed them and turned onto her side with much anguish – she was clenching her teeth as she settled into her new position. Porom had been so battered when they found her that everyone was surprised she could even sit up in bed for as long as she had managed. Izayoi fluttered over to the other side of the bed, straightening the white mage's pillows as she began to drift off. Porom had shoved the hand that was clutching the destroyed rings beneath her pillow, hiding her treasure from sight.

"Let's go to Troia," Rydia said softly. "If Palom is still around…having him here could really help Porom. She's totally devastated…the poor girl has been through so much by herself these past few days – and I can tell she's blaming herself for everything that has happened."

"Perfect idea," Luca squealed, blushing happily. "Rydia, come help me prepare for takeoff."

"I'll come too," the man in black volunteered, and the three of them disappeared upstairs, leaving Edge and his men behind with a now passed-out Porom. Edge eyed Tsukinowa as he crept from the corner he had barred himself in ever since Porom had been brought downstairs, tugging his cowl down as he kneeled at the foot of Porom's bed.

"Oh, Porom…" Tsukinowa whimpered, lowering his head. "She's gotten herself into such a terrible state…"

Izayoi raised her eyebrows, jabbing Edge with her elbow. He sucked air between his teeth, fighting the urge to give her a one-fingered salute until he realized what she was trying to get him to pay attention to. He looked at Tsukinowa's sulky form, then to Porom, and blinked.

"Wait… _she's_ the one you…?"

Tsukinowa glared up at Edge, drawing a finger across his throat. Izayoi snorted, and Edge kneeled down next to Tsukinowa, awkwardly resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "…It's all right. She is far from your average white mage. You know that just as well as I do, right?"

"Yeah…" Tsukinowa shook his head. "But maybe if I stayed in Mysidia a little longer, I could have…"

"Eblan needed you," Edge said firmly, and Tsukinowa looked up at him. "This won't be the last time you'll have to make a tough decision like that – the road you walk as a ninja is laden with them, unfortunately. I won't say if what you did was right or wrong…but you have to own every decision you make, whether you are a ninja, or a civilian. If you don't, you'll end up driving yourself insane with regret. We live in a world where the door to one path closes when we choose the other – we're not able to run back and change our minds."

"I know you speak the truth," Tsukinowa sighed, propping his chin on his hand as he gazed at Porom's still form. "But…I don't know. Don't you ever wish you could go back, and do something over again? Even if you only got one chance at it, and could never reverse another decision for the rest of your life? It might be worth it, if you chose wisely…"

"Yeah…" Edge closed his eyes, the memory rushing over him of diamond dust-laden breath exploding into fireworks inside his chest on a cold winter night. He stood up, giving Tsukinowa a playful flick behind the ear that made the boy jump. "But I don't think any of us _would_ be wise enough to make the right choice if we got a do-over – simply because we're human. So it's probably all for the best, anyway."

"Yes, Master!" Tsukinowa smiled. "I will keep a watchful eye on her recovery – that's what I can do now, and I'm going to give it my all. Please take care of yourself when we reach Troia!"

"I always do," Edge smirked. "But let me give you some advice – older women are serious business. They've experienced a lot more of life, and they know what they want and don't put up with anything less. Don't get involved with one unless you're willing to put in the work."

"I think Ramuh fried both of your brains," Izayoi sighed. "Tsukinowa, the last person in the world you should ever get love advice from is your master. Besides, you're not allowed to date until you're twenty anyway – that's your mother's orders."

"That's just because she doesn't want me to become a young parent like her," Tsukinowa wriggled his eyebrows. "But I also don't wanna be an old maid like, you, Izayoi!"

Gekkou and Zangetsu both had to cling to Izayoi for dear life as Tsukinowa ran for the boiler room to hide, disappearing in a blur of green and purple. Edge nearly collapsed on the floor from tears of laughter, his stomach cramping from the effort not to howl out loud and wake Porom up.

 _In the end, every decision I've made inevitably comes back to this – to see these people – my people – simply living the lives they want without fear. If I can play even a small role in that becoming a reality, I'd do everything the same way all over again, if I ever were made to go back._

 _…Even though some of those decisions really, really hurt at the time – and continue to do so…_

* * *

 _Baron_

 _Father, what is wrong with you!?_ Ceodore could feel his heart screaming as Cecil released him without further comment and strode back to the center of the room. Rosa, Cid and Edward were making no effort to mask their horror. From her position next to the throne, the mysterious girl continued to hungrily bore into Rosa.

"Cecil..." Kain lowered his gaze. "There is a lot that you and I need to discuss – I won't deny any of the sins I've lain against you, your family, and Baron…but there's so much more at stake right now. The second moon is a precursor to catastrophe – and the crystals are crying out – they are _afraid_. Let's you and I team up and fix this together – after that, I promise I'll do whatever you feel needs done to mend what's between the two of us…even if that means you never want to see me again, I'll heed your request."

"Kain, no!" Rosa cried, but the mysterious girl suddenly stepped forward, raising her hand.

"Speaking of promises, _Dragoon, Ex-Baron_ – we too had a promise, if you recall."

Kain glared up at her, and she giggled, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. "Ah, don't look so surprised – just because you got a sparkly new outfit doesn't mean I don't recognize you from the blood-thirsty monster you were before. Must I remind you? The crystals, for an audience with Cecil – I've fulfilled my half of the bargain. Let's have the crystals, shall we?"

A bolt of lightning ejected from the ceiling, plunging cleanly between Rosa's shoulder blades. Rosa's eyes rolled back as she wordlessly slumped to the floor, the Water, Wind and Fire crystals lifting out of her hands in a golden bubble and soaring into a portal the mysterious girl had opened next to herself.

"Rosa!"

"Mother!"

Ceodore and Kain ran to Rosa's side, Kain lifting her writhing body against his chest as Ceodore whimpered a Cura spell. Behind them, Cid was struggling to hold a still-injured Edward back from launching himself at the girl, who gave him a small smile in reply to his efforts as she snapped her fingers and closed the portal. Cecil turned toward her, holding out his hand and ignoring Rosa's convulsions.

"With this, all of the crystals are back in our grasp." His fingers curled into a fist, the blue shadows beneath his eyes briefly illuminated by the light of the portal as it faded from their sight.

"That's right," the mysterious girl smiled. "I _could_ have done it without you, but you made my time here interesting, despite your terribly annoying friends."

" _"Back",_ you say?" Kain hissed, relinquishing Rosa to Ceodore as he stood, his hand reaching behind him for his lance. Ceodore shook his mother gently, her eyes fluttering open as a low moan escaped her throat.

"Yes…" Cecil's voice drifted off as the mysterious girl floated to his side, a self-satisfied smug plastered on her face as she gazed up at him.

"Cecil!" Rosa coughed, her back hunching as she tried to expel the burning tremors she could feel choking her lungs. "Ugh…the crystals…why!?"

"Don't try to talk…!" Ceodore whispered, his eyes watering. Why wasn't his father rushing to his mother's defense? Normally, if Rosa even so much as sneezed, Cecil would materialize at her side – they had always seemed to share a bizarre bond that told them when something was wrong with the other. It had used to embarrass Ceodore that his family was so embroiled in each other's business – it was just another indication of the alien blood running through his veins – but now the severed connection between the three of them felt as gaping and obvious as a phantom limb.

"Stay back, Rosa," Kain growled, swinging his lance down in the space between Cecil and himself, the tips of the shimmering twin blades hovering over Cecil's chest. Cecil smiled up at him, his hand grazing the hip from which Ragnarok hung.

* * *

Rydia gazed up at the entrance of Troia Castle despondently, wrapping her arms around herself as she took in the glittering shield of ice that had become encased around the edifice like a crystalline exoskeleton. The doors to the castle had been thrown wide-open, with no one in sight – the only sign of life that could be heard was the wailing wind that carried their party's chattering teeth and voices throughout the abandoned castle keep.

"It's been completely frozen over," Edge mused aloud. "I don't suppose that's par for the course here?"

"We're not _that_ far north," the man in black sighed, pulling his cloak tighter around his exposed chest. Rydia couldn't help but wonder if his feet had simply become completely numb at this point – his toes were pointed into flaking shards of ice. "So I would say _no_ , not normal."

"Oh, no..." Rydia bit her lip. _It seems obvious what has happened here, but…I have to check just to make sure._

"What is it?" Luca asked, and Rydia shook her head.

"I don't want to get ahead of myself. For now, we have to hurry and check on the crystal."

 _Hurry_ was the operative word – the marble floors of the castle were also covered in a thick sheet of permafrost (along with everything else – walls, ceilings, massive chandeliers that somehow still had plumes of light pulsing beneath the ice), which resulted in a lot more slipping and sliding than actual purposeful strides. Rydia and Luca linked arms to keep each other steady as they scooted ahead, with Edge and Golbez taking up the rear. Having never been in Troia's castle before, Rydia was amazed by all the imagery of women that surrounded them – beautiful portraits and murals that covered the walls and the domed ceilings of the solarium, relics and jewels from eras gone by encased in locked displays, frozen cascading fountains that featured maidens and warriors alike – it was a refreshing change of décor from every other castle she had been in, which seemingly featured the same boring hard aesthetics and odes to virility.

 _If I ever had a castle, I think I'd like it to be very much like this one – a celebration of the natural wonders of our planet. No wonder the Crystal of Earth is ensconced here…_

She found herself drifting off-course over to a group of beautiful statues, all women huddled close to each other, heads lowered conspiratorially – until she realized with muted horror that they were all actual people – frozen solid with a pale blue sheen veiling their panic-filled eyes.

"Oh gods!" Rydia gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. "Everyone's been…!"

"Palom!" Luca cried, backing away and cupping her hands over her mouth. "If you're here, answer us…!"

"Answer us…!"

"Answer us…!"

"…us…!"

She lowered her hands as the echo teasingly reverberated around the room, chewing on her lower lip.

"Let's go this way," Edge said, pointing toward a short set of carpeted stairs that lead to another pair of open doors. The doors had at one point been flanked by two middle-aged women in what appeared to be chainmail bikinis, until they had been transformed into human icicles. Rydia and Luca made their way through, followed by the man in black, who had to tug on Edge's arm to get him to come along after admiring the view the guards offered for more time than was considered gentlemanly.

It was not as much of a shock to Rydia to see the Epopts of Troia, sisters of varying ages who looked eerily alike and chose purposely to dress alike, all frozen in various parts of the aisle that bisected the next chamber they had walked into; but she was devastated by the discovery nonetheless. If the Epopts had fallen, it was certain that the crystal they had sworn to protect had fallen along with them – to hope for otherwise seemed like an exercise in naiveté at this point. But as Rydia took in the depressing scenario before them, she realized that something else seemed off as well. Pressing her lips together, she silently counted the number of bodies scattered down the aisle, and then again for good measure.

"Someone is missing," Rydia announced. The man in black continued further in the room, eyeing a suspicious bejeweled panel on the northernmost wall.

"Huh?"

"There are supposed to be eight Epopts. But I'm only counting seven."

"There have been rumors that the eighth Epopt is sick," Edge said. "And that Troia has been trying to replace her with someone that can wield black magic."

"Black magic?" Rydia raised an eyebrow. "But I thought the Troians primarily practiced white magic? Particularly the Epopts themselves…?"

"Guess they wanted to up the ante in terms of defending the Crystal of Earth," Edge replied, and Rydia looked away, her stomach dropping.

"Oh…of course. Baron…"

"That would explain why Palom was here," Luca piped up. "If you're going to teach your Epopts black magic, you may as well have the most powerful black mage in the world write the lesson plan – right?"

"Well, fat lot of good that did them," Edge sighed. "Unless someone really pissed Palom off and this is all actually his doing."

"I highly doubt it," Rydia frowned. "He's not that evil – I think." Suddenly, a screeching, grinding sound rang out that made her ears want to spontaneously hemorrhage, and the three of them turned toward the source – the man in black was shoving open a hidden door, the blade slung over his back glistening with chunks of shining ice. With only a slight gesture of his palm, he motioned for them to follow, and then disappeared through the threshold.

"Ooof, he's gotta be strong to carve through ice like that," Luca beamed, and Rydia pressed her fingers to her forehead in resignation.

 _Are we over Palom again already…?_

The hidden room had turned out to be the crystal chamber, although the Crystal of Earth was notably absent, along with any signs of ice or permafrost. It was if the room had been completely sealed off from the castle's icy curse – you wouldn't have realized anything was amiss until you stepped back outside. Even the temperature of the room was what you would have expected of an early summer day in the Troian region.

"Troia's crystal is gone, too..." Rydia sighed. _No surprises here. But I sure wish I knew where it actually went. Did Kain take this one back to Baron too?_

"It must have been that girl," Edge shook his head. "As horrible as it might sound, I'm glad Izayoi wasn't here for this…not even she could have escaped that monster. This is all a little overkill just to get a lousy crystal."

Rydia stared at the empty crystal dais, her eyes watering.

 _I'm fairly sure the mysterious girl had help with her little snow sculpture._

Luca was stomping around the crystal chamber, peering behind each of the columns and muttering under her breath.

"What is it?" Rydia asked, her eyes following the princess as she made a second trip around the room.

"Where could he be at a time like this…!?" Luca scowled.

"You mean Palom?" Edge asked, and Luca nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. The man in black watched them from the crystal dais, a faint hint of amusement in his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Rydia shrugged. "Well, remember when the Red Wings were attacking us?"

Luca nodded. "Yeah, it's like we told Porom. He was on a black chocobo..." She paused for a moment, chewing on her lip. "…Headed due north."

"The area north of Troia is covered in mountains and forests," Edge shook his head. "The region is not exactly hospitable to a black mage, even one as powerful as he. At the end of the day, a mage isn't anything special if he runs out of mana, and Palom doesn't strike me as the outdoorsy, survivalist type."

"Wait-wait-wait!" Luca held up a hand, as if a gesture as simple as that would shut Edge's big mouth. "You're reminding me of something Master Cid mentioned. He spoke of a cave northeast of Troia filled with fearsome monsters – but also really good minerals for airship parts. It's called the Lodestone Cavern – ever heard of it?"

Both Rydia and the man in black shook their heads. Edge grinned. "Care to give it a look?"

"Absolutely!" Luca exclaimed, and Rydia held out her hand.

"Now, just wait a moment…"

"You don't sense any eidolons here, do you?" the man in black asked. Rydia shook her head, looking up at him as he hopped down from the crystal dais. Luca and Edge had suddenly become lost in their own plans, the prospect of getting out of the frozen castle vastly appealing to the two of them for entirely different reasons.

"No…at least not at the present."

"Then it might be worth a trip northeast," he frowned. "An eidolon might have followed your friend – especially if he had something the eidolon wanted…"

Rydia nodded, pressing her lips together. It was very strange for them to seemingly be on the same page, but his theory made sense – and Rydia was starting to get the impression that this man understood more about eidolons than any average person. He could tell, just like she, that the ice enveloping the castle was far beyond anything a mere black mage could execute on his or her own, and had noticed how odd it was that the all-encompassing ice had never made its way into the crystal chamber – almost like whoever was responsible for casting the spell had simply turned around and left once they saw the crystal was not there.

 _Palom…did you actually escape with the crystal? It would be the miracle we so desperately need if you did…_

* * *

The Lodestone Cavern, as Luca had explained on their short journey over, was naturally magnified due to the types of minerals found throughout the island that the cavern was formed on. She also shared that at one point during the war, Cid had made his way to the cavern with Cecil to rescue the Crystal of Earth from a beast that had further amplified the magnetic field to such an extreme that one could not even walk inside holding a sword without instantly becoming paralyzed in place.

"So what are we to do with our weapons?" the man in black had asked.

"Ah, that monster should be long-gone by now – Master Cid and Cecil made quick work of it. If we approach the cavern and start to feel as if we weigh a thousand pounds, we'll know something even worse is waiting for us. But Cid has been back plenty of times since with no problem."

Happily, Luca had been right on the money – no one had complained of any sudden pains or pressure when they had reached the cavern's entrance. Rydia couldn't help but notice, however, a small collection of abandoned mythril pieces at the mouth of the cave as they shuffled past – one in particular was a curved and exquisitely sculpted silver and amethyst hairpin that looked to be worth a fortune. She gently brushed the dirt of the cavern off of it with her fingertips, her mind immediately jumping back to the young woman she had seen riding the black chocobo along with Palom.

 _That's right…Palom wasn't alone! Who was that with him?_

"These pieces are so light – why would someone leave them behind?" Rydia asked, and Luca shrugged.

"Hard to say. Are we gonna go inside, or are you still treasure hunting?"

"Jeeze," Rydia groaned, making a face and tucking the hairpin in her belt for the time being. Even if she never found the owner, she wondered if the man in black would know what kind of protective properties amethyst had – he seemed to be surprisingly knowledgeable about such things, and she realized she _liked_ having an excuse to talk to him. "When you're motivated, you're all business."

Rydia was fairly sure that Luca had forgotten about the presence of the other girl as well…or she was very purposely blocking it out.

It wasn't much time later that they had reached what appeared to be a dead-end. As they had made their descent underground, the percentage of land versus the percentage of empty, depthless ravine seemed to gradually invert – by the time they reached what looked like a rotting, half-collapsing door that had a great deal of the planks torn off, they were surrounded almost entirely by a sea of black, and the very distant lapping of water meeting land could be heard deep, deep below. If the "door" lead to anywhere but a tiny cavern, Rydia had to assume it would have to be on an entirely different plane of existence, because there was no physical possibility of them descending any deeper without plunging into the stale ocean water below.

"Let's just put this door out of its misery," Edge offered, promptly slamming his foot through it. Splintering chunks of wood flew everywhere, Rydia and Luca ducking under the pieces that attempted to assault them. The man in black clenched his jaw, saying nothing even as a chunk of wood bounced off his chest.

Inside the next room, the group was shocked to find an exact replica of the crystal chamber in Troia Castle – and for that matter, the crystal chamber in Mysidia too. Unlike Troia, however, _this_ crystal chamber was blanketed in not only several layers of ice, but a fresh coat of powdery-white snowfall as well. The crystal dais itself was empty, but collapsed at the base were two frozen-stiff bodies, both just barely visible under the new dumping of snow – a wiry young man with long brown hair in a braid that reached past his waist, collapsed face-first into the ice, and a young woman in vestal robes with an ash blonde ponytail spilled over her face, her hand outstretched toward the man with her eyes and lips frozen shut. Her face was contorted in confusion – or quite possibly pain – and a miter was overturned next to her, frozen to the ground with a petite mound of snow starting to build atop it.

"Oh my gods," Rydia gasped, and Luca fell to her knees before the man, grunting as she lifted him from the ground with every ounce of her strength and flipped him over to his back. She choked out a sob as she delicately ran her fingers over his haphazard bangs and down the slope of his nose to his pursed lips. "Palom! This _can't_ be happening! Not to you too!"

Edge first approached the young woman, gingerly reaching down to brush a strand of her hair that had fallen over her eyes, which was of course hard as a rock. He then turned to Palom, whom Luca had now dragged across her lap, tapping his finger to his chin. "Would Fire or Flame do anything to help him?"

Rydia shook her head. "As I suspected back in Troia, this is no ordinary ice covering their bodies..."

"Oh?"

"It is diamond dust," both Rydia and the man in black said in unison. They looked up at each other sadly, and Edge glanced between the two of them, trying very hard to squash the immature part of him that wanted to reach out and slam the man in black's face into the dais just a few times – you know, just to get some frustration out.

Instead, he cleared his throat, gazing back down at Palom's frozen body. "Diamond dust…?"

"I thought you might remember….from fifteen years ago," Rydia said softly. Edge blushed deeply, turning away and rubbing the back of his head.

"Uh…I mean, I do. But that was much prettier and this is much more…murderous. Is it really the same thing?"

Rydia saw a flash of white out of the corner of her eye – it had been reflected in one of the mirrors that lined the chamber walls. She froze in place, her eyes watering as the velvety glacial blast hit the back of her neck. It delicately drifted around her throat like a mother lovingly wrapping a scarf around her child, and she soon felt it began to squeeze tighter and tighter, the color in her face draining as she reached up and desperately clawed at the air around her neck.

"Shiva!" Rydia gasped, and a calamitous scream tore across the crystal chamber, sending showers of ice and snow careening down from the ceilings above, like an avalanche trapped inside of a snow globe. One by one, the mirrored walls of the chamber shattered, fragments of glass melding with the ice and snow as a tempest of arctic wind raced at breakneck speeds to assail them.

"Flame!" Edge shouted, a wall of fire wrapping around the six of them just as the blizzard reached the confines of the crystal dais. An explosion of steam hissed to life as fire met ice, the burst of humidity rushing into the chamber's ceiling as the now-freed glass fragments fell to the ground, their delicate song echoing over the dying roar of the flames as they slid over the ice-coated crystal tiles.

Rydia whirled around, the figure of the lithe ice goddess stepping through the curtain of Edge's fire greeting her. Rydia hesitantly took a few steps backwards, wincing as her hip slammed into the crystal dais sooner than she had expected. Shiva stared down at Rydia with dead, coal-blackened eyes – just like Titan's, and just like Ramuh's – and felt the sinking dread ball up in her stomach once again.

"Shiva! It's me, Rydia!" she cried, her numb fingers struggling to grasp hold of her hairpin. Shiva tilted her head, the ice crystals and sapphires woven in hair clinking ominously as she bared her sharpened ivory teeth.

"You're wasting your time, Rydia!" Edge said nervously, stepping in front of Luca and Palom to shield them. Luca lowered her head against Palom's chest, her wail carrying into the wind.

"Give me back _my Palom_!"

"I'm trying to _buy_ time!" Rydia gulped, finally yanking the hyacinth out of her hair and grasping it in her hands. "Shiva just wants to get back to normal! I'm sure of it! But there's no light for me to reflect – without the crystal, this chamber is too dark!"

The man in black stood before the unknown frozen girl on the floor, sending out a volley of Fira spells as a middling distraction for Shiva, who was attempting another snow dance and would at least be slowed down by dodging the flames licking her feet. "Can Ramuh illuminate the crystal chamber with a lightning bolt?"

 _Of course! Ramuh may not want to fight Shiva, but he can at least light our way!_ Rydia closed her eyes, a warm breeze wrapping around her like a ribbon as she sank to one knee. Her hair fluttered behind her, spiraling into a miniature whirlwind of emerald. _If it was Ramuh's light that worked before against himself…then surely it will work again now!_

"Ramuh! Per the bindings of our covenant, I beseech you to come to my aid. Fill this chamber with dazzling light upon my command!"

A thunderclap ignited on the dais behind Rydia, and Ramuh appeared in a plume of golden smoke, the irises of his eyes faded to white as he raised his hands toward the heavens, summoning forth the familiar maelstrom that had been turned against Rydia just hours earlier. Shiva stared up at Ramuh confusedly as the chamber started to shake with the rumble of thunder, and both Edge and the man in black protectively kneeled over their respective charges, their eyes glued to Rydia. Lifting her hairpin in the peripheral of Shiva's glass-like features, Rydia closed her eyes, silently counting to three before giving her order.

"…Now!"

A terrific crash detonated in the miniscule amount of space that stood empty between Shiva and Rydia, the blazing light burning through Rydia's clenched eyelids as she struggled to maintain her balance and keep her hands raised in the air. Shiva leapt back with a screech, clawing at her face as the crackling electrical storm reflected off the carved petals of the ruby and burned into her lifeless gaze.

The request fulfilled, Ramuh disappeared from the dais, and Rydia felt another crash that sent her flying forward. The hyacinth bounced out of her hands, skidding across the floor and landing at Shiva's feet.

Rydia dragged herself up from the floor, daring to open her eyes. Her vision was still flooded with glowing spots, but she could at least now tell that the last of Ramuh's light had dissolved – the cavern was starting to slowly become swallowed in darkness once more. Stumbling forward on her hands and knees, she stretched out her palm to snatch up the hairpin, only to have a cold, periwinkle-manicured hand grasp her own and smash it painfully into the sharp corners of the hyacinth's petals.

"Shiva!" Rydia gasped, the ice fairy's grip tightening painfully as her face came into focus. She had fallen to her knees and was hovering over Rydia, her icy breath causing the tears that were seeping out of the summoner's eyes to freeze upon contact.

"You... It is you... Rydia?" Shiva asked softly, and Rydia broke into a wide grin, entwining her fingers with Shiva's as she nodded.

"Yes, it's me! Shiva, I'm so glad you're back! I missed you terribly!"

"I... What was I doing?" Shiva shook her head, pressing her free hand to her hair. "I can't remember anything…how did I get here if you did not call me?"

"It doesn't matter," Rydia said quickly, her heart pounding. _Shiva is such a delicate, sensitive soul – if she realizes what happened, she'll drive herself mad with anguish._ "Everything is OK now – if you return to the Feymarch, you'll find Ramuh waiting for you. And I'll bring the others back, too – I just need a little more time!"

"You need only say the word, and I'll return to your side once again," Shiva bowed her head, a solitary tear sliding down her cheek that blossomed into a diamond as it fell from her face. "Thank you, sweet Rydia…" She disappeared in a flash of light, the blanket of diamond dust she had ushered into the crystal chamber fading into the aether.

Rydia slumped lower into the floor. Clutching her hairpin, she snapped it back into her hair, letting out a strained breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"Palom!" Luca exclaimed from behind her. Rydia looked over her shoulder, and saw that Palom was starting to stir in Luca's arms. His eyes fluttered open, the color returning to his face as he suddenly sprung to his feet, thrusting his fist in the air as he barked out a laugh.

"Hah! Who said anything about giving up? Give me back the crystal!"

"Palom!" Luca blinked, waving up to him. Palom paused, taking a slow look around the crystal chamber. His eyes first fell to Rydia, then to the man in black, who was kneeling dumbfounded next to the unknown woman, and then he finally swung back around to Edge and Luca, who were both giving him a look the translated into a vulgar expression if spoken aloud.

"...Huh?" Palom scratched his head. "What're you doing here, Luca? Am I dead, or what?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Luca sputtered, her face turning red. "You're alive...and so am I, for your information!"

Palom shook his head, turning back to the man in black and the young woman, who was also starting to stir. The man in black backed away as Palom bounded over, pulling her outstretched hand into his as he sank to his knees. "Leonora!"

 _So her name is Leonora…?_ Rydia tilted her head. _I don't seem to remember Palom or Porom talking about a Leonora before…is she a new friend of theirs?_

"Pa...lom..." Leonora gasped, her pretty gray eyes lifting to meet his stare. Rydia watched as their fingers gingerly interlocked, and felt a hot glow rush up her throat. Suddenly, she felt as if she were intruding on something very private, and longed for a black hole to appear that she could hop into. It seemed that the man in black felt the same way – he had immediately averted his gaze, a tinge of pink blossoming on the tops of his ears.

 _Whoa…maybe "friend" isn't the right word?_ She glanced over at Luca, who unlike Rydia and the man in black, could not keep her eyes off of them, and looked as if she were approximately fifteen seconds away from having an aneurysm. Rydia couldn't be positive, but she didn't think she had ever seen her friend's skin tone precisely match the hue of her wild red hair in all of their years together – and she had seen Luca get angry about a lot of things.

"Don't worry me like that, Leonora..." Palom mumbled, and promptly collapsed next to her, his eyes slamming shut. Leonora's eyes widened, her words hanging in her throat when she lifted her head and realized she had four total strangers staring at her.

"Palom!" Luca huffed, climbing to her feet and pressing her hand to her mouth. Rydia couldn't make out everything, but was pretty sure the words "you dirty bastard" were uttered.

"Where are you from, Miss?" Edge asked, extending his hand to Leonora. Leonora stared at him for a few beats, finally gathering the courage to pull her hand away from Palom and offer it to Edge instead.

"Troia," Leonora replied quietly, and Edge hauled her to her feet. She swayed dizzily, grasping his arm and turning so red that Rydia wondered if the poor girl was going to spontaneously combust.

"We'll take you back to Troia," Rydia smiled. "Anywhere in particular?"

"Um…the castle is fine, actually. If it's not too much trouble…"

"No trouble at all," Edge patted her shoulder. "Should we leave Palom here? Did he kidnap you or something?"

"W-What?" Leonora bit down on her lip and shook her head. "N-No! I…I'm the one that insisted I go with him!" She pressed her hand to her mouth, whimpering. "Please, don't press any charges against Palom…he didn't do anything wrong!"

"Whoa, calm down, I was just kidding!" Edge laughed nervously. "Anyway…can't press charges even if I wanted to – you guys are a little outside my jurisdiction." He shot Rydia a look that said _"What the hell did we get ourselves into?"_

"Let's get you two back to Troia," Rydia tried smiling harder, hoping it came off as genuine, although she had a feeling she was just further creeping Leonora out. "Do you think you can walk, or do you need someone to carry you?"

Leonora took one look at Edge, and then turned toward the man in black, who merely rested his hand on his hip – he wasn't smiling at her, but he wasn't glaring, either, which was pretty much as good as it seemed to get with him. Just that act alone was enough to send Leonora into another dithering fit, and she shook her head quickly, her hand sliding to her chest. Rydia wondered if she was trying to keep her heart from jumping out of her lungs.

"No, no…I don't want to be a burden. I'll be fine on my own!"

"Well, I'm not carrying the brat," Edge shrugged, sauntering out of the crystal chamber. "I'll go ahead and make sure there aren't any monsters waiting for us now that Shiva's reign of terror is over." Luca and Rydia both looked to the man in black, who raised his eyebrows.

"…Really?"

"Sorry…" Rydia shrugged sheepishly. "We can't leave him here…Porom would kill us."

* * *

A cluster of soldiers were waiting at the gate of the defrosted Troia Castle when the party made their landing. Rydia was ecstatic to see that everyone looked OK – like Palom and Leonora, the effects of the diamond dust on the castle and its people had been neutralized after Shiva had returned to the Feymarch. Palom was still passed out in the man in black's arms, and Leonora, as spirited as she was about the attempt to make it home on her own two feet, was on the brink of unconsciousness herself. By the time they reached the soldiers, both Rydia and Luca were hoisting Leonora up on their shoulders, the exhausted girl's chin falling to her chest every few moments before suddenly snapping awake.

"Leonora! Lord Palom!" one of the soldiers cried, breaking free from the group and rushing up to greet them. "It was rumored you escaped with the Crystal of Earth – are you OK?"

"We'll live," Leonora said softly, gazing over at Palom. Rydia had to admit that when he was sleeping, he almost looked angelic – but surely by this point, Leonora had spent enough time with him awake to realize what a terror he actually was. Leonora closed her eyes, sighing. "But I fear the crystal is lost. I'm sorry that I failed you…"

The soldier fell over herself explaining to Leonora that an apology wasn't necessary, and that she was sure she and "Lord Palom" had done their best. After a few more minutes of expounding, the soldier finally picked up on Leonora's exhaustion, asking if Rydia and the others would be so kind as to escort Leonora back to her room while she gave the Epopts the report of Leonora's return.

"That's what we were trying to do in the first place," Edge groaned once the soldier was out of earshot.

"Don't mind her…" Leonora yawned. "I suppose I should start getting used to people wanting to know what I am always up to…"

Rydia and Luca exchanged a quizzical look, but said nothing.

Leonora's bedchamber was a small, but tidy circular room at the top of an eastern tower that resembled a cloister thanks to the stained glass that made up the majority of the domed ceiling. The walls were lined with curved oak shelving that housed books and artifacts, a small armoire built into one of them that must have housed Leonora's wardrobe. A set of beds were positioned across from each other, both with the same white sheets tucked with military precision and a hand-woven down duvet.

Leonora practically threw herself into the bed on the far right, her eyes closing before she could direct them where to put Palom. The man in black unceremoniously dumped Palom in the free bed, brushing his hands as if to formally rid him of any contaminants the black mage might have been carrying.

Edge closed the door to the room, pressing back against it as he gazed up at the designs carved into the stained glass. Since there was hardly any light left in the sky, the colors that poured on the floor before them were mostly muted browns and shadows.

Luca was sitting on the edge of Palom's bed, the look on her face shifting between unbridled rage and undying devotion depending on what moment you caught her staring at him. She dug into the pouch hanging from her belt, retrieving a vial of Phoenix Down and popping the cork. As she pressed the glass to his lips, his throat began to clench in response, the color returning to his cheeks. When his eyes slowly slid open, Luca tossed the empty container aside and leaned over his chest, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Who's that woman with you, anyway?"

Palom blinked, his nose practically touching Luca's. He looked over at Leonora, who had curled up into a ball, one of her arms hanging over the side of the bed as her chest rose and fell steadily. "Her?"

Luca nodded, and Palom gave Luca a hard shove on the shoulder, pushing her off of him.

"She's my _partner_."

Luca's eyes widened in confusion, and Leonora chimed in from the bed, her eyes still closed. Apparently, she wasn't as asleep as everyone had thought. "M-my name is Leonora. It's an honor to meet all of you! I'm Troia's newest Epopt – informally, anyway. I suppose I haven't been properly initiated yet."

Everyone in the room gave their introductions – with the exception of the man in black, who merely nodded.

Rydia turned to Palom, who had swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Palom, there is something you should know. The Elder of Mysidia is in critical condition as we speak…"

"What!?" Palom interrupted, jumping up. "Then I can't just sit around here!" He winced as he took a step forward, suddenly falling to one knee and cursing under his breath. "Arg…! It feels like my legs are still numb!"

"You can't leave! Not yet!" Luca pouted, and Palom glared up at her from the floor.

"Nobody asked you! What's going to happen to Mysidia if I'm not there for them!? That's my home, you know!"

"Palom!" Rydia snapped, and Edge stepped away from the door, reaching down and yanking Palom to his feet with one swift motion. Still clutching Palom's coat, he leaned in, tugging down his cowl.

"Calm down. Luca's just concerned for you – there's no reason to get angry at her for that. You haven't heard the whole story yet – and believe me, we have plenty more that you're going to want to save your outrage for. The Elder has a team of white mages caring for him – he will be OK. Come to the Falcon with us. Porom's on board, too – she'll want to see you."

Palom reddened, his eyes flickering briefly at the mention of his twin sister's name. _Porom…she managed to escape whatever got the Elder? Thank the gods for small favors…_

"...Heh! Who died and made you my master?"

Edge shrugged, dropping Palom's coat and giving him a little shove. It was more than enough to overwhelm Palom's still-weakened body, and he flopped back onto the bed pathetically. "If you don't like it, then rest up until you can fight on your own."

Palom smirked. "No problem! That's exactly what I'm going to do, thank you very much! I hope the Falcon has nice accommodations."

Edge pressed his fingers to his forehead, groaning. _Oh, brother. He's exactly as I was, once upon a time._

Leonora sat up on her bed, pushing her hair out of her sleepy eyes. "I-I want to come with you!"

Palom tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now, look...letting you come along to defend the Crystal of Earth was one thing…it was super cool when you gave that witch the beat down with that wooden board, but it was also super reckless."

"You saw that?" Leonora smiled, and Palom blushed deeper, remembering Leonora's shriek as she had barreled into the crystal chamber and slammed the board across the mysterious girl's skull.

 _"Don't you touch Palom!"_

"Yeah…I mean…I was petrified, not dead."

"Well, w-we're not done yet, are we?" Leonora tapped her finger to her cheek. "You haven't finished teaching me all the magic you know."

"Hah! Good point!" Palom grinned. "OK, you're on. Welcome to the team."

"This is not your team to welcome anyone to!" Edge snapped, and Leonora giggled behind her sleeve.

"Oh Palom, you have such spirited friends – I'm really looking forward to getting to know all of you better!"

Palom smirked as he stood up, relinquishing his seat on the bed and tossing Edge a haughty glance as he walked over to Leonora, already barking orders to her about what she should pack. Luca was staring at her knees, dumbfounded, her eyes narrowed into watery slits. Rydia took Palom's place on the bed, sliding her arm around Luca's shoulders and giving her a tight squeeze.

"Hey…are you all right?" Rydia whispered. She exhaled deeply, not believing what she was going to say next. "I don't think he meant to be so nasty…he's probably still in shock about losing the crystal."

"Um…" Luca rubbed her cheek, shaking her head. "Yeah, I'm all right. Too much excitement…not enough sleep…it's all starting to get to me now. It's slowly sinking in…we're in a lot of trouble, huh?"

Rydia squeezed again, leaning in closer. "Yeah...we are. But I couldn't ask to be in trouble with a better group of friends. If it weren't for you guys, I wouldn't already have two eidolons back – I'm still kind of in disbelief that you're all willing to help me like this – I fear it's only going to get harder."

Luca cracked a smile. " _Idiot._ You did so much for us seventeen years ago – more than we'll ever be able to repay you for. This is the least we can do. I'm not going to let anything – or anyone – get in the way of helping you get your family back."

Luca's eyes fell on Palom as she spoke, whose back was turned to her. Leonora was reaching up from the bed, handing him something that had been wrapped around her neck – a green and white scarf, it looked like. A fresh wave of tears sprung to her eyes, and Rydia pulled her closer, tucking her head against her chest.

"Luca…"

"I'll be fine…" Luca sniveled, closing her eyes as she drank in the sharp, clean notes of Rydia's hair, still tinged with a mix of mist and diamond dust. "…Honestly, I'm just happy he's alive, standing among us just like this… There's no need to ask for anything more right now."


	30. Act Thirty: The Autarch's Tale

Act Thirty: The Autarch's Tale | The Undying Flame

The sound of snapping bone resonated through the crystal chamber as Porom threw her head back and let out another blood-chilling scream. She had lost count of how many times she had done this now – even so, her voice still had not given out – it only became laced with a fresh layer of pain each time. She could feel the hives swelling to life on her eyelids from the itchy wool of the scarf tied over her face, made more so agonizing by the fact that she could not move either of her arms or hands to claw at them.

She was frozen in place by a Hold spell, four of her ten outstretched fingers now bent in grotesque directions. The click of steel against crystal echoed in her ears as she heard her tormentor take a lap around her paralyzed form – she could feel the malice rolling off his body in unrelenting waves. It was as if someone kept pushing her head in a tub of water and holding her there until the moment her lungs were about to burst, releasing her, and giving her only a moment to breathe before she was thrust back under once more.

"Please stop, Kain!" Porom regained control of her voice and hissed the words through clenched teeth and the throbbing ache of her hand. The footsteps paused. A shadow fell over her face. He was close – but not enough that she could feel his breath rushing over her skin.

"…Where is the Crystal of Water?"

"I don't know. I keep telling you…"

"Indeed you do. And yet you keep expecting a different response to your foolishness?"

The footsteps started again – they were making their way toward the top half of her body. Her throat clenched in anticipation of what was to come – she could feel his fingers brushing over her pinky, lingering over the twin star rings…

 _Palom, where are you? I need you…!_

"Kain, please!"

"CRACK!"

"AHHHHHHHH!"

A flash of white exploded in Porom's vision as the pain surged down her tendons. She felt her chin get yanked up as the scarf was ripped away from her eyes, her heart pounding in her ears as her eyes wildly darted about, still drowned in the piercing radiance of her agony. The face before hers slowly came into focus – an ebony carving of twisted curves that made up a close-fitting helmet, slender spikes extending from behind his ears. _A demon come to life from her darkest nightmares._

"…What…?" Porom blinked drowsily. "That armor…I've seen it before…"

The voice inside the helmet laughed cruelly with just the hint of an aristocratic lilt. "Why do you keep calling me _"Kain"_?" He reached up, sliding open his visor. Porom's breath caught in her throat as she took in the luminous cerulean eyes burning into her. They instantaneously transformed her back into the terror-stricken girl that had once guided a knight of darkness through the realm of the undead, in search of seemingly futile redemption...

"Cecil!" Porom whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek as she helplessly watched his blood-stained fingers reach for her neck.

* * *

A crash from the bed next to Porom's startled her awake, shaking her free from the terror that had taken hold of her in her sleep. She choked out a gasp as her eyes popped open, her non-injured hand unwittingly flying to her neck to inspect it. In her haste, she dropped the two destroyed rings she had been clinging to in her sleep, cringing as she heard them bounce onto the floor. It was so dark that she could hardly see a thing – the lights had been extinguished, and it was clear from the portholes running along the walls that it was now night. She couldn't see any clouds flying by or any sign of movement – perhaps they had found a place to set up camp. She had been out of it since she had heard Izayoi kicking Rydia and Edge out of the stateroom, ordering them to leave her in peace. She couldn't even remember her head hitting the pillow before the darkness had swallowed her.

 _What a bizarre dream…_ Porom hesitantly planted one foot outside her bed, testing her strength. She could feel her ankle shaking threateningly just from that small effort, and feared for the worst if she actually attempted to stand up. Instead, she blindly slid her foot over the floor, hoping her toes would bump into the two rings.

 _I still can't believe it…the mysterious girl that attacked Mysidia is working for Baron? Working with…Cecil? And now Kain too, it would seem…_

She quietly jumped in surprise as her foot brushed over ring number one, curling it in her toes and slowly dragging it back toward her. When she bent over to grab it, she felt a shooting pain race up her spine, her head spinning wildly.

 _Ugh…! I'm far weaker than I thought…_

She snatched the ring and pressed her palm to her forehead, taking long, shaking breaths to regain her composure.

 _Why does Baron – no, Cecil – seek the crystals? Ceodore didn't seem to know anything was amiss – does he have any idea what his father is trying to do?_

She spotted the second ring glinting from underneath the bed next to her. Her leg wasn't going to stretch over that far – she was going to have to either wait until the morning, or wake whoever had made such a racket next to her and ask for help. What the heck had happened, anyway?

Her eyes better adjusted to the darkness now, Porom could see that one foot was jutting out of the blankets on the bed to her left, and they had most likely kicked a satchel that had been stashed at the end of the bed to the floor. The satchel was now half-open, several Potions and Ethers scattered about, but thankfully not broken. Still, it would not be pleasant for whoever was sleeping to wake up in the morning and step on one of the bottles. Porom's eyebrows knitted in frustration as she made one last attempt to get up, her knees buckling before she could even lift herself completely from the bed. She was definitely _not_ going anywhere…

"Hey…" Porom whispered, cognizant of the fact that several other people could have been sleeping in the stateroom as well. Her mind had been spinning when she was first brought onto the Falcon, and she could barely recall how many strangers' faces greeted her at the time. "Can you hear me? Your stuff went everywhere."

The lump under the blanket grumbled, the stray foot retreating like a turtle hurrying back into its shell. Porom sighed, tapping the ring against her cheek.

"You're going to get hurt… _wake up_! Er, please."

The lump promptly rolled over, and Porom's heart stalled in her chest. Laying there in a mess of both tangled hair and robes was Palom, whom other than looking like he hadn't seen a night of sleep for days with the dark circles beneath his eyes and his slightly sunken cheeks, seemed somewhat OK. He was certainly breathing, and wily enough to cause destruction even in his sleep, which was all the assurance Porom needed to draw the conclusion that her twin would eventually recover himself. Porom pressed the ring to her lips, mumbling as she held back a happy sob. Had she the strength, she would have leapt out of bed and screamed for joy.

"Oh Palom…I'm so relieved…you're safe…"

Palom snorted into his pillow. "Just you wait 'til I'm fully recovered! Once that happens, I'll…I'll…" He burrowed deeper into the blanket, disappearing from sight a few moments later. Porom giggled into her hand, shaking her head. _Nothing seems to get to you, does it little brother? Maybe the Elder was right…perhaps that are some things that only you can teach._

In the bed next to Palom's, Porom could just barely make out another figure stirring – a spill of blonde hair was splayed over the pillow, an innocuous sleeping face peeking out beneath a hooded collar that Porom didn't recognize. The young woman pressed her pale pink lips into a thin line, visibly flinching as she muttered in her sleep.

"Pa…lom…Help me…!"

Porom blinked in surprise, tilting her head as she slowly and painfully took on the endeavor of pulling herself back into bed. The spilled supplies and the other ring were going to have to wait, as anxious as neglecting both of them made her feel – knowing Palom, he would just kick the satchel out of bed again anyway before morning's light. He had always been an…aggressive sleeper. Besides, if he saw that she was literally losing sleep over a now-broken, utterly obsolete trinket that he probably hadn't thought about in years, Porom knew she would never hear the end of it. She would discreetly ask whoever came to tend to her in the morning for their help in fetching the ring from underneath Palom's bed, and leave it at that.

Taking one last glance at the woman, who had turned away and curled herself into a shaking ball, Porom sank back against her pillows, lifting her eyes to the ceiling as she gingerly pressed her wrapped hand to her stomach.

 _I can sense a great power simmering in that girl's blood…_

* * *

On the deck of the Falcon, Rydia was slumped against one of the ship's railings, her head cradled in her arms and Edge's cape hanging from her shoulders. She had fallen asleep keeping a lookout for their next eidolon – Ifrit. Edge was sitting next to her, propped up against a crate, staring at the specter of the massive moon hanging over the Falcon. He idly lifted his hand, flexing his fingers toward it. A few more inches, and he was convinced he could grab it in his hands. If only things were that easy – he could crush the thing to dust and then maybe some semblance of sanity would return to their planet once again.

After they had gotten Palom and Leonora secured onto the Falcon, the question had been raised about their next destination. Unfortunately, neither of their new recruits were useful for any information in their depleted state, and it seemed all but a given at this point that the Wind and Fire Crystals had already been spirited away by Baron. Edge could tell that despite Rydia's two victories over Ramuh and Shiva, she was drained from the disappointment of their being too late to save the Earth and Water Crystals, and from not being able to stop the eidolons' tyranny exacted on their friends. That was when Edge had made the executive decision to explore the Eblan region next – Ifrit could still be wandering about, and there would be no hopes dashed of a crystal to defend.

Rydia had made no argument – and that was his final confirmation that she really _was_ out of sorts. It had not taken long for them to fall back into old habits, and fighting was as natural between the two of them as breathing – she would argue with him about the sky being blue if he had irritated her enough.

After Luca had taken them to Eblan, Edge declared that they would lie in wait in the plains between the still sealed-off tower and the castle, where they could have the best vantage point of the comings and goings of the kingdom.

"Master, shouldn't we return to the castle?" Zangetsu had asked in his usual patient, grandfatherly tone. "Surely the Seneschal will be anxious to see you and get a status update, considering all that has occurred with the moon and the meteor storm."

"It's not necessary," Edge waved his hand. "In the castle, it's more difficult to get a read on any of the tower's activity. From here, we can see everything."

"He must have gone against Seneschal's will when he ran off to the tower before," Tsukinowa smirked. "And now he's afraid of the verbal beating he's going to get if he returns. I'm right, aren't I, Master?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Edge muttered. "What does Seneschal's will matter when it comes to his king? And _your_ king too, in case you've forgotten?"

"You're right on the mark," Rydia chimed in dryly from her post at the bow of the ship, and the Eblan Four tittered as Edge threw his hands in the air and stomped away.

It had been at that point that Luca declared she was going to finally get some sleep, and she and the others made their way downstairs for the night. Edge had maintained a respectful distance from Rydia, although he couldn't stop his eyes from seeking her out during the chores he had volunteered to help Luca with on the ship. It had finally occurred to him that perhaps his party's dropping in on them (literally) might have somewhat been an inconvenience, and the princess looked as if she were about to keel over from rushing them around the world. He had decided that offering to help keep the ship up was the least he could do.

He paused as he climbed the foremast to take look at a tangled shroud, watching Rydia sink to her knees and pull her fountain of wavy hair over one shoulder, nonchalantly combing her fingers through the knots. Her eyes never left the pale blue desert spread before them.

 _It's been fifteen years, and you continue to only blossom more exquisitely – but your heart is heavier than ever before. I wish you would tell me what happened that makes you drift aimlessly through the beautiful planet you saved...are you still in limbo between our world and the world of summoned monsters even after all this time?_

It was after he completed the final item on Luca's list that he noticed Rydia had fallen asleep, and had at last joined her, throwing his cape over her for warmth and allowing himself a short rest too. He had forgotten how much work it took to upkeep an airship – his time with the Falcon had been short when he had traveled with Cecil, but it had been exhilarating for Edge to learn that he loved to fly.

 _In a different life – maybe if I had been born in Baron – I could have become an airship pilot. Maybe Cecil and I would have even served together in the Red Wings. If only Seneschal had not been so skittish about Eblan embracing airship technology…stodgy old miser. Maybe it's time to try again when all this is over?_

The glaring light of the moon made it impossible to sleep, and Edge was finding it hard to ignore the racing of his heart just from being so close to his daydream maiden – he wished he could read her desolate face buried under her tangled hair like he would the page of a book, and get caught up on everything that had transpired in her life since they had last parted that winter night in Mist. He had heard the rumors over the years that Rydia had been spending less time in the Feymarch – his occasional clandestine drop-ins in both Mist and the Feymarch, along with the chatter from their friends, had seemed to confirm that. But that had seemed odd to him, since he knew first-hand how much Rydia had loved it there – he wondered if something had happened, or if Rydia had finally found something – or someone – worth suffering in the Overworld for.

 _Not me, obviously…_

He lowered his head, pushing his hands through his hair and willing his eyes to slide shut, despite the insistent scorch of the moon's light. Once again, as he now found himself doing whenever he had a free moment to think, he tried to piece together the sordid tale that had unfolded for all of them these past few days – wondering what could have possibly spurred the mysterious girl into action after all this time, and what connection she had with Baron and the moon.

 _And that bastard Kain is back as well…it's too much of a coincidence for my taste that he suddenly resurfaces when Baron is on a tear to gather the crystals. I've never been able to entirely trust him, but I thought up until the day he disappeared that he and Cecil were back on good terms again. But he told Porom he wants to kill Cecil... Does he see Cecil as a threat to the crystals, or is it something personal?_

 _If that witch was coming back for her revenge from sixteen years ago, why couldn't she have come for me instead…?_

"Oh my god! Edge, wake up! Quickly!"

Edge felt his head loll back and forth violently as his eyes snapped open. Rydia was leaning over him, her eyes wild as she grasped his shoulders.

"The castle…it's…!"

Edge twisted his body so that he could look over the ledge of the ship. He watched in horror as a pillar of flame leapt from the western tower of Eblan Castle, exploding into a plume of crimson smoke against the moon. A few moments later, another explosion rocked the castle, the eastern tower bursting into flames as well. Fiery debris sailed into the keep, and even from their position on the Falcon, Edge could hear the shouts of the alarmed soldiers awoken from what would have normally been another boring night of watch.

"We need to go!" Edge jumped to his feet, pulling Rydia along with him. She wordlessly fastened Edge's cape around her shoulders, not questioning how it got there in the first place, bolting downstairs into the hull to get help as he ran to the control deck of the ship to lower the ramp.

 _It's the same as seventeen years ago… How could this possibly be happening again?_

 _But this time, Mom and Dad aren't here to save everyone... This time…!_

Edge fled the ship and dashed across the sandy, dust-ridden plains to the castle gatehouse. He was greeted by a pair of ninjas who were hurriedly raising the portcullis in preparation for the onslaught of people starting to thunder down from the innards of the castle, and another ninja at the ready above to raise the bolt holding the twin wooden doors shut.

"Master!" one of the soldiers cried, giving a final yank on the draw rope that fastened the portcullis in place.

"You're back! And safe!" the other soldier gasped, rushing to push open the doors once the bolt had been raised. Edge watched them scurry about with an almost mechanical indifference. He had to remain calm – he couldn't very well launch into a Seneschal-approved fit and scare the hell out of everyone. Memories from Eblan's last disastrous fire flooded through him – he could already hear the screams of those burning reverberating in his skull and recall the crushing helplessness he had felt when he was knocked out by something – a monster, burning rubble, he still had no clue even today – and had awoken, alone, in Eblan Cave, neither of his parents by his side.

 _I'm sorry, Prince Edge – your parents rushed back into the blaze to find some missing soldiers…_

And he had been too weak, too smoke-logged, and too foolish to follow them…

He shook his head, banishing the past's foggy tendrils from seizing his mind.

"I see the castle's on fire," Edge offered the soldiers by way of greeting, and they exchanged a secret, weary look. _He's as cool as ever…even at a time like this!_

"It must be Ifrit!" a voice shrieked from behind. Edge turned to see Rydia running toward him, and behind her were Luca and the man in black, both looking about as well as you would expect for someone shaken out of a desperately-needed slumber. Luca's bob was smashed on one side with her visor on backwards, and the bags under the man in black's incensed violet gaze could have held enough luggage for a cruise around the world. Giving himself a mental pat on the back for not immediately jumping to ignoble conclusions on why the stranger had felt the need to join them, Edge instead turned back to the soldiers, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What has happened to throw Eblan into such chaos?"

"Master, our intelligence is stymied at the moment," the soldier from above called down to them. "Several areas of the castle of blocked off by impenetrable flame, which is keeping all but the most elite of our ninjas isolated to their respective quadrants. Those that have been able to bypass the flames by scaling the castle walls have shared that the fire appears to have started in both of the towers simultaneously. Those that are able are trying to get the citizenry out by unconventional means if they are in a quadrant that cannot access the castle gates."

"It sounds like the war all over again," Edge frowned. " _Those_ fires were caused by Rubicante's monsters that gave birth to flame that became a living extension of their life force – the fires did not die until all the monsters were destroyed." He peered at Rydia. "Could this really be Ifrit's work?"

"I'm afraid so," Rydia couldn't bear to look into his hardened gaze, and stared down at her boots instead. "It's possible Ifrit was drawn to Eblan away from the Tower of Babil because of the previous catastrophe – the smell of an inferno still lingers over this land, even seventeen years after the fact. Ifrit can father monsters that have an affinity to fire called Melt Golems – they may be what are residing in the towers now."

"If we defeat them, will the fires retreat?" Luca asked, and Rydia nodded.

"Yes, that should do it. Of course, if Ifrit is really stalking the castle, it may only be a matter of time before the fires renew…"

"We won't let him get that far," Edge growled, shoving past the soldiers. "We're going in."

"Master! Please, reconsider…!"

But of course, Edge would hear none of it. With Rydia, Luca and the man in black running behind him, he first made his way to the inner ward of the castle, where he could see for himself the un-killable fire that raged across the stone bridge that would take you into the village and eventually, the throne room. As they ran, hordes of people pushed past them going in the opposite direction, all being lead by soldiers helping them escape. Most of them paid Edge and the others no mind as they fled, terror having seized their senses to the point where they did not even recognize that their king had returned.

"What are we doing?" Luca huffed. "Shouldn't we be heading for the towers?"

"There are a lot of people who may be taking refuge in the village that are now trapped," Edge frowned. _Including Seneschal…!_ "Will magic truly not douse the flames?" He linked his thumbs together, index fingers pointed to the northern and southern poles.

"Flood!" A barrage of tidal waves that rose from the ground at his feet and crashed into the fiery wall before them. The water burst into steam as it collided with the fire, not even making a dent in the inferno. Rydia stepped forward, closing her eyes as she folded her hands together.

"Shiva! Per the bindings of our covenant, I beseech you to come to my aid. Dispel the flames of war with diamond dust upon my command!"

The ice fairy arrived at Rydia's side in a patina of dazzling light, pressing her fingers to her lips as she danced about the yard, her eyes darting in every direction as she sized up the situation before her. Finally, she returned to Rydia, her bell-like voice shaking as her feet tapped the flagstone.

"Rydia, these flames cannot be quenched by my magic – this is the work of Ifrit's hellfire. Not even is my ice powerful enough to overcome such ferocity – you need to call upon Leviathan's tidal waves or the All-Father's obliterating Mega Flare."

"But…" Rydia lowered her hands, her eyes consumed by the spill of the flames before them. "Neither of them comes when I call any longer… Can't you at least _try_?"

"This place is teeming with humans that are panicked and afraid," Shiva murmured, reaching down to stroke Rydia's cheek. As she did so, a pearlescent sheen of frost crawled up Rydia's jaw. "My diamond dust will not discriminate between man and flame. Although I cannot stop the flames, I can create bridges of ice and guide the others out that are trapped. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, yes!" Edge cried, falling to his knees before Shiva. "Please, I beg of you – save as many of my people as you can! We'll take care of the fire ourselves!" Shiva looked between Rydia and Edge, nodding.

"I'll do my best, friend of Rydia – AHHHHH!"

A figure suddenly leapt from behind the wall of flames, pouncing on Shiva and sending her rolling into the yard. Rydia and Luca screamed as they stumbled out of the way, Edge and the man in black simultaneously withdrawing their blades. A djinn with crimson flesh and curling black ivory horns sprouting from his temples slammed his claws into Shiva's shrinking form as she deftly blocked each blow with a manifested sheet of ice, her legs kicking fiercely beneath him to try to free herself.

"Ifrit!" Rydia cried, starting to run for him. Luca grabbed her arm, shaking her head.

"Girl, are you crazy? We gotta put out these fires before they spread any further! If we don't find Ifrit's demon offspring, the entire castle is going to burn to the ground."

"She's right," Golbez said. "At this moment, we do not have the advantage – we'll never be able to impair him enough to wake him back up with all this fire surrounding us. Let's weaken his source of power first."

"But Shiva!" Rydia shrieked, "I can't leave her…! Not when I just got her back!"

"I'll keep him distracted, Rydia!" Shiva called, forming an ice cluster around her fist and using it to smack Ifrit in the jaw. The fire eidolon roared, rearing backward as she curled her legs back and gave him a violent kick in the stomach. "Go with your friends – they need you."

"Come on, Rydia," Edge said gently, taking her arm. "She's right – your black magic blows my ninjitsu out of the water. _Please_ , help me save Eblan!" Rydia whirled around to face him, biting her lip. The rising smoke was starting to obscure her vision, but their eyes found each other instantaneously – she knew there was no way she could abandon this man, not after everything he had done for her – and that was just in the last twenty-four hours. The last time Eblan had burned, she hadn't been able to do anything – she had not even known of its existence, had never even the slightest idea that one of Eblan's people would become someone so dear to her. But this time, she _could_ change the tide of fate…right?

"I'm so sorry – of course, I'll help. Let's go!"

With two black mages in their group, they quickly determined it was best to split up and take on the towers from which the fires had originated at the same time. Rydia and Edge turned left down an unfettered path to make their way to the western tower, and Luca and the man in black turned right to reach the eastern tower. As they climbed, Edge cleared their path of the lesser beasts that had manifested from the flames – Flamehounds and Bombs, mostly – while Rydia made a sweep for any trapped citizens. Luckily, it seemed that the soldiers had made quick work of clearing the tower once the explosions went off and had escorted everyone out. At the top of the tower, Edge kicked open the door to the only room, letting out a menacing growl as a billow of black smoke engulfed them.

"Hack!" Rydia coughed, pulling Edge's cowl over her face and narrowing her stinging eyes as she tried to peer over Edge's shoulder. "W-What do you see in there?"

"I see a bastard of a golem using my magazine collection as kindling!" Edge shrieked as he marched inside, and Rydia could feel her teeth involuntarily grinding.

 _You're…you're kidding me…_

The room that had turned out to be Edge's bedchamber was glowing bright orange, the blown-out windows the only release for the layers of smoke and fire that were rapidly permeating the room. His curtains had been completely eaten away by the fire, leaving only bare, scorched metal rods drilled into the concrete walls. Crates of weaponry and armor that were scattered about had been toasted to ash, and the floor was now littered with black scraps where rugs had once lain out to combat the cold Eblanese nights in the desert. Sitting on Edge's bed, which had become a collapsed throne of flame, was a mountain of a molten rocks with glassy red eyes that had flames rising high enough from its dusty flesh to lick the ceiling. The beast lifted its head when Edge barged in, lifting an ignited beam of wood from the destroyed bed and aiming it for the intruders.

"Blizzaga!" Rydia cried, an explosion of lotus-shaped ice crystals filling the chamber and throwing an unsuspecting Edge backward into his wardrobe. The sharpened petals of ice sliced through the Melt Golem as easily as a knife through butter, causing the beast to explode into a cloud of dust that scattered with the dissipating ice dust and snowflakes. The fire running rampant faded to oblivion, leaving Edge with a soaked, blackened, utterly destroyed bedroom.

He lifted his head, shaking off his stupor as he leapt to his feet and made a beeline for his bed, which was now nothing but a heap of smoking wood and nauseous fumes emitting from his down mattress. After a few moments of tossing away rubble and hurriedly digging through mountains of ash, he let out a wail, shaking his head.

"Gone… They're all…! ARGH! Seventeen years of love and dedication blown away by an errant eidolon…!" Rydia clenched her fists, her eyebrows shooting up high enough to touch the ceiling.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered. Her face was so red that she was afraid she would be the next object in the castle to burst into flames. "I'm going to find the others – are you coming with me, or should I leave you to mourn?"

"Oh, I'm coming!" Edge growled, rising to his feet. "Truly, this time that woman has gone too far!"

Rydia smacked her palm against her forehead, retreating back down the tower stairs. _I should have stayed with Shiva and let him deal with the Melt Golem himself…_

Luca and the man in black were waiting for them at the walkway that linked the central keep of the castle with the yard. With the defeat of the Melt Golems, the flames blocking their way had cleared, opening the path for more citizenry to flee. Luca was ushering people toward the gates as the man in black kept watch for any monsters eager to crawl out of the dying fires. Rydia was disturbed to see that both Shiva and Ifrit were gone, but there was little time to mull over where they could have disappeared to. Once the last wave of people had passed through safely, Edge ran ahead of them into the keep, calling out for any remaining survivors to flee for the gate. When they reached the village proper, several hiding soldiers came out at the sound of their king's voice.

"Where is Seneschal?" Edge gasped, and one of the soldiers pointed down the hall.

"He refused to leave until he knew all of the citizens had escaped, Your Highness! We secluded him in the throne room with a few guards, where he would be safest."

Edge nodded and sent them on their way, ensuring them he would take care of any monsters. Rydia caught up to him, grasping his arm.

"What did they mean by that? Why would he be safest in the throne room?"

Edge stared down at his feet. "…It was fireproofed when the castle was rebuilt. After my parents…"

Rydia released his arm as if it burned to the touch, her lip quivering. "Oh…"

He threw open the throne room doors with far more force than was necessary, the sound of them crashing into the walls making the Seneschal nearly leap out of his skin from where he was pacing in his usual path around the empty throne. A small group of ninjas were gathered in a corner, looking somewhat relieved that they hadn't just been ambushed by a pack of monsters, but rather just by their obnoxious king.

"Your Young Highness!" Seneschal exclaimed, throwing his arms around Edge. Edge hugged him back tightly, silently thanking the gods that his oldest, dearest and most annoying companion was spared yet a second time from certain tragedy.

"What's the damage report?" Edge asked, and Seneschal pulled away, reverting back to his all-business self. He cleared his throat, making it a point to eye Golbez warily. Even Rydia had to admit that among present company, the man in black actually looked like the person who would have _started_ the fires – but Golbez took the Seneschal's suspicion in stride, merely turning his attention elsewhere in the room. He was used to it from Edge now, after all – no point in starting anything here and now.

"The priority was to evacuate the women and children. However, I'm afraid our castle can't hold out for much longer – the fires have already done massive damage, and the soldiers reporting to me from the village say we can't seem to tame them on our own. What news have you, My Liege?"

"The monsters that started the fires are destroyed. The only people I found were soldiers in the village that were keeping guard – it would seem everyone else made it out safely," Edge gave a half-smile. "It's all thanks to the ninjas for getting everyone out so quickly, and Rydia's friends here," he nodded toward Luca and the man in black. "The western tower _is_ quite nearly gone though."

"And the east, I'm afraid," Luca added. "It did not look like there was much that could be salvaged after we slew the Melt Golem holed up in there."

"And what of the Eblan Four? They chased after you to the Tower of Babil…"

"They're on standby at the Falcon for anyone that needs assistance," Rydia said, quickly bowing. "I'm so glad you are safe, Seneschal."

"Ah, the daydream maiden returns to us once again," Seneschal chuckled, and Edge shot him a glare, which he cheekily ignored. "I'm glad you are well too, Miss Rydia. I suppose I have you to thank for keeping His Highness in one piece?"

"The Eblan Four have been doing most of the babysitting," Rydia smiled weakly. "But we're still not out of the woods yet – we should get you out of here before…"

Suddenly, the temperature of the room shot up to a blazing, unbearable heat that made Rydia feel as if she had plunged into a pool of lava. Whirling around, she saw Ifrit filling the threshold of the throne room, his claws tearing curling strips of bamboo off the floor as he pawed at the tiles. Thanks to the fireproof properties of the room, the flames continually leaping off of Ifrit's back were not catching on anything, but the chamber itself was not going to save any of the humans within when Ifrit decided to unleash a blast of his hellfire.

"Here he comes!" Rydia gulped. To her surprise, Edge shoved the Seneschal toward her, reaching to his belt to retrieve a shuriken.

"Hmph! Leave that guy to me!"

"That's suicide!" Rydia hissed, and Edge glanced up at the skylights above his throne, arching a brow.

"No. There's no other way! I'll lure him away from the exit. All of you, evacuate the castle in the meantime!"

With that, Edge leapt to the top of his throne, perching momentarily to toss a timed explosive shuriken onto the skylight. A series of frantic beeps went off, and the glass shattered in a terrific explosion, sending a shower of dust and debris below. Ifrit watched Edge with interest as the ninja then took another flying leap, grasping the ledge of the skylight and shimmying out.

"Edge!" Rydia cried, and Ifrit let out a roar, giving chase as he barreled through the throne room and launched himself upward with his hind legs, shattering the remaining glass pieces that were brazenly hanging on after Edge's explosion and forcing his massive body through the gap. Moments later, his battle-scarred haunches had disappeared, and a violent pounding could be heard on the roof above that made the entire throne room quake beneath.

"You heard him," the man in black muttered, pressing his hand both to Rydia and the Seneschal's backs as he guided them out of the room. Rydia craned her neck toward the skylight as she was dragged away, but couldn't make out anything further. Luca followed close behind, along with the remaining soldiers, her axe raised just in case Ifrit decided to double-back.

Outside, Edge raced across the roof toward an eastern gallery that he knew would be likely to cause the least collateral damage to the castle as a whole if the tide of battle did not turn in his favor. He could hear Ifrit's claws tearing into the shingles behind him the entire way, but kept up his pace until he had reached the desired destination, skidding to a stop and turning to face the stalking eidolon. Ifrit slowed his pace when he saw that Edge had stopped, rising to walk on his hind legs as he let out a guttural snarl, flames curling out of his lips.

"Come on, Ifrit!" Edge shouted, withdrawing Masamune and Murasame from the holster on his back. "I'm not hiding from you anymore! Not this time! This isn't going to go down like it did in the Tower of Babil."

Ifrit inched ever closer, and Edge bent his knees, preparing to launch into his attack. He just needed the eidolon to come a little closer, and then he could leap behind him and give him a nasty little surprise.

 _If I can weaken Ifrit enough – Rydia won't be in any danger when she uses the light of her ruby to wake him up. Ramuh and Shiva were too close a call – I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe so she can find the other eidolons!_

Just as Edge was about to launch himself into the air, Ifrit sprung forward, pinning the ninja down before he could even leave the roof and sinking his claws into Edge's shoulders. Edge bellowed out a scream as he fell back against the sharp clay shingles, registering the spill of warmth soaking into his shinobi gear just as a whirlwind of blistering wildfire crashed down upon him from the blackened night sky.

His vision became awash in blur of glimmering amber, the roar of the blood pulsing through his ears fading to a quiet babble as he felt his heart begin to strain with the effort of each new beat. For the moment, he was comfortably numb – but knew soon that his nerve endings would be tearing through his skin in an effort to escape the pyre that would ignite in his very marrow.

 _So this is the end already… Rydia...did you make it out?_

He closed his eyes, blocking out the pulsing amber light and surrendering himself to a tranquilizing emerald lull his imagination had scraped together with the last of his strength. He reached for it with his blistered hands, longing to feel the cool silk just once more between his fingers before he was spirited away to the next world.

 _"Come, now. You call that skill?"_

Glossy tendrils evaporated through his fingers like smoke as another wave of seething heat washed over him. The sound of a leather cape snapping in the wind resonated in his ears like a raven's wings. When he opened his eyes, he saw Rubicante standing before him, a slash of a smile stretched across his blackened mouth.

"You..." Edge growled, rising to his feet. Miraculously, nothing hurt – in fact, he felt better than he had in a long, long time. Murasame and Masamune were still gripped firmly in his hands – he leapt forward, bringing both blades down across Rubicante's ruby-cloaked chest. They sliced through with no resistance, as if Edge had merely swung a stick in mid-air – the fiend's cloak didn't even ruffle. Rubicante chuckled, and Edge stepped back, hissing between clenched teeth.

"Rubicante! What is this trickery?"

Rubicante tilted his head. "So _this_ is the man who managed to withstand my fire? My, my…much has changed in seventeen short years, it would seem."

"What?" Edge blinked, and a delicate hand touched his shoulder, sending a shiver down his spine despite the ungodly swelter that surrounded him.

"Edge!"

He turned to see Rydia by his side, her whip clutched in her hand. Behind her, a glimmer diamonds and snowflakes faded into nothingness – he strongly suspected she had been able to reunite with Shiva, and had asked the eidolon for one more favor before dismissing her from battle.

"Rydia!" He flushed slightly as he took her hand, reluctantly removing it from his body. He wasn't really sure he could form a cohesive sentence otherwise. "I told you to run!"

She tilted her head, arching an eyebrow. "You expected me to listen?"

Edge threw his head back and laughed – which seemed a totally asinine reaction, considering the ghost of one of Golbez's elemental archfiends had somehow magically materialized before him – but really, who cared about any of that when _she_ was by his side? And now that he thought about it a little harder, he was probably a ghost himself – enjoying a short spell in limbo before ultimately being plunged into what was most likely a pit in hell with his name on it. He decided he may as well have fun with the bone the gods had tossed him while he could.

"Heh. It's your funeral."

"That's the spirit," Rydia smiled, cracking her whip as she turned to Rubicante. Rubicante greeted her with a sneer, wagging his finger.

"What's the matter, Edge? Have you been defanged?"

"Can you see him too?" Edge asked, and Rydia nodded.

"Yes…I'm afraid so. What was it that you said when you crashed onto the Falcon? That history is repeating itself…?"

The two of them cast simultaneous Flood and Blizzaga spells, which Rubicante shrugged off with a swing of his infamous cloak of flame.

"Is that all the spirit you've got?"

"Stop playing games!" Edge growled. "Either tell me what you want, or get the hell out of my face and let me die in peace!"

Rubicante laughed, raising his hands. "Yes, that's perfect! Now, recall it! That _tru_ e flame which has been etched into you!"

A maelstrom of fire encircled the two of them, forcing them to their knees as the suffocating heat drowned their senses and began to sap the energy from their bodies. Rydia gasped for breath as she struggled to lift her head, clawing at invisible ribbons of smoke that were wrapping around her throat. Edge's vision blurred into splotches of red and black, and the familiar feeling of his blood reaching a boiling point beneath his skin began to once again take hold…any minute, he would surely burst out of his own blistering flesh.

When he next opened his eyes, he found himself laying face-up on the same roof where Ifrit had attacked him. The claw marks on his shoulders were gone, and in their place was a spill of Rydia's hair from where she had collapsed upon his chest. Her eyelids fluttered as she let out a low moan, her eyes meeting his as she blinked in confusion and pulled herself off of him.

"What was that?" Edge muttered, pushing himself up by his elbows.

"We both wouldn't be able to imagine the same thing, right?" Rydia gazed down at her hands, biting her lip. "Why would _he_ appear now…?"

Below them, Ifrit was making quick work of the yard beneath the gallery, a new storm of flames erupting in his wake as he stalked back and forth, snorting angrily. He appeared to be disoriented and confused – he kept retreading the same path and flinging his head around as if he was not sure how he had gotten down there in the first place. Edge could see Rubicante's smirking sneer in the depths of the flames, his stomach clenching as he recalled the Autarch of Flame's taunts.

 _The true flame that has been etched into me…would that be the rage you instilled when you murdered my parents? The rage you then called a weakness because I was a man that was a slave to his emotions – because I had the audacity to love the family and kingdom you stole from me?_

He pressed his hand to his healed chest, frowning as his fingers caressed the unbroken skin through his clothes. _Even so…this time…were you actually trying to help me…?_

"Ifrit!" Rydia cried, crawling forward and lowering her head. Her face was streaked with soot, the tears running down her cheeks tilling streaks of ghostly white in their wake. "No…the fire is spreading too fast! If we don't do something, the entire keep is going to go up in smoke!"

 _The true flame…_

As he watched the panic ignite in Rydia's eyes, Edge gasped, snapping his fingers. " _Wait_. That's it! The blast from an explosion will quell the flames... An eye for an eye!"

Rydia lifted her head, her chapped lower lip quivering. "So...fire against fire?"

"You got it!" Edge stood up, grinning. "When water and ice won't work, hit 'em with a taste of their own medicine!"

She bit her lip. "This doesn't seem to add up…are you sure we're not just going to make things worse? We might end up blowing Eblan off the map."

Edge grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet, nodding. "I've never been surer! Think of it as like blowing out a candle – only we're, you know – like a giant, catastrophic version of that."

Rydia stared at their interwoven fingers, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. "I guess I'll just have to trust you."

"Good, because I'm going to need your help. With your fire magic, and my flame ninjitsu, we're going to create an inferno of our own. _That's_ what Rubicante was trying to show me!"

 _How could I have not seen it earlier? My true flame is my friends – their spirits that burn deep inside me, no matter how long we've been apart – guiding me even from afar. It was with our strength combined that we defeated Rubicante, and saved the world from Zeromus's malice. And I'll use that same strength to save Ifrit…and Cecil!_

Silently counting to three, they leapt down from the gallery roof, tumbling onto a flagstone pathway that had not yet been taken by the fire. Ifrit turned to face them, his roar echoing in the night sky as another shot of flames exploded from his maw.

"I'm ready for you now, Ifrit! Let's go!" Edge hissed, and turned to Rydia. "You're with me, right?"

"Yes!"

 _I have to trust Edge – he doesn't want to hurt Ifrit, either! I have to believe that this will really work!_

Rydia closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she began to conjure a Firaga spell. Next to her, Edge was readying a Flame ninjitsu, his eyes narrowed as his hands fluidly moved to each of the hand seals needed to cast the spell. As Ifrit sprang forward, Edge released his spell, directing a whirlwind of flames to encircle the eidolon like a cage and gritting his teeth as he willed the fire to hold its shape with all of his strength. Rydia's eyes snapped open, and the Firaga spell struck Ifrit from above in a blazing cyclone, swirling with Edge's fire ninjitsu and cumulating into a massive detonation that threw the two of them backwards into the gallery wall from the aftershock. A plume of smoke rose from the yard as the wildfire was blown away, and Ifrit collapsed in a heap on the scorched grass, his yellow eyes narrowing as he desperately plunged his claws into the dirt.

"Surprised? You're not the only one who wields fire," Edge choked, slumping against the wall with a half-laugh, half-groan. Rydia pressed her hand to her forehead, idly wondering if it was possible that she would ever see straight again – she felt like an hourglass that kept getting turned over and over. She tried to will her body to rise, but her legs refused to cooperate – like they had been disconnected from the rest of her in the blast, even though she could plainly see them tangled and bruised before her.

"Wait a minute! You haven't forgotten about us, have you?"

Luca and the man in black were racing toward them from the south, Luca digging frantically in her bag for medicine. Fishing out two Potions, she tossed them to Rydia and Edge, who both miraculously managed to catch them and proceeded to toss them back with the ferocity of starving children at a banquet. Rydia could feel the stinging, but sweet taste of the Potion traveling throughout her body, stirring her tired limbs awake from stasis.

"Heh. Sorry about that," Edge grinned, wiping his mouth as he tossed the empty bottle aside. "Good timing, though."

The man in black knelt down to haul Rydia up, who gratefully clung to his arm as she reached up to take hold of her hairpin. Stumbling forward, she held the hyacinth high in the air, the glimmering ruby petals catching on the moonlight and filling the courtyard with a sea of crimson. Ifrit growled in his throat as the light splashed over his eyes, his head slumping into his arms as the muscles in his broad back rippled.

"Rydi...a?"

"Ifrit! You're back!" Rydia exclaimed, throwing herself on top of him and laughing gleefully. Ifrit lifted his head, the normally-stoic eidolon giving Rydia one affirmative nuzzle before disappearing in a flash of green and yellow crystalline light. Rydia clutched the lingering motes of light against her chest as she closed her eyes, her body shaking with relief as the light slowly died on the hyacinth's petals. "Thank heavens you're back, Ifrit..."

She heard the crunch of footsteps in the charred grass, and looked up to see Edge standing over her, his hand extended. She grasped his fingers and stood up, pushing her hairpin back in place before reaching up and giving him a fierce smack in his shoulder. Edge jumped and slapped her hand away, glaring.

"What the hell was that for!?"

"Have you gone mad!?" Rydia shrieked. She reached up, unfastening Edge's cape around her shoulders with one fluid motion and whipping it off before shoving it into his chest. "Challenging an eidolon by yourself?"

"Not by myself!" Edge snapped, his arms fumbling with the cape as Rydia, Luca and Golbez simultaneously gave him a death stare. The castle grounds had fallen into an eerie silence with the roars of the fires snuffed out and the evacuation of all of the residents. Edge threw the cape back over his shoulders, turning his back to the others as he took one last look at the destruction that had fallen upon his home. He was already anticipating the screaming lecture Seneschal would unleash once Edge told him that they would depart Eblan by dawn's light. He hated to leave the clean-up of Ifrit's aftermath to his people, but there was no way he could quit his journey now – not when they were getting closer and closer to uncovering the truth behind Baron's allyship with the mysterious girl thanks to each eidolon Rydia recovered.

 _I hate to admit it... but you saved my life, Rubicante. You reminded me of where my true power comes from – where it has always come from, ever since the day you struck me down in the Cave of Eblan. I suppose I never properly thanked you – had you not been such a smug bastard about letting me live, I might have never met Cecil…and Rydia._

 _Now, it's my turn to save them...and I will do whatever it takes!_

* * *

 _Baron_

"What's this?" Cecil grasped the hilt of Ragnarok, taking heed of Kain's lance lingering only inches away from his heart. "Do you seriously intend to cross swords with me?" Kain exhaled deeply, taking another step forward, which forced Cecil to back away toward his throne.

"If you wish for it."

Ceodore felt as if his blood had turned to ice water, watching the man that had saved his life advance upon the man who had _given_ him life, the same piteous look flooding Kain's eyes that he had held before slaying the dark dragoon. Before Ceodore realized what he was doing, he found himself gently resting Rosa on the floor and hastening to his feet, his outstretched hand grasping Kain's elbow. "Kain!"

Kain refused to tear his eyes away from Cecil. Cecil peered over Kain's shoulder, his lips tugging into a smirk when he saw the young boy trembling before him.

"And _this_ is the man you've placed your trust in, Ceodore? Over your own flesh and blood? Have you any idea the treachery he's committed not only against the throne, but the world itself?"

Ceodore's heart sank into the pit of his stomach, his hand slowly releasing his hold on Kain as he raised his chin, forcing himself to stare into his father's deadened gaze.

 _I still can't feel it...my father's light. He's standing here before me, but there's nothing there at all…ever since the day of the crash…the day that stupid moon returned…!_

"Stay behind me, Ceodore," Kain ordered.

"Ceodore..." Cecil's voice dropped to a low growl that sent shivers down the boy's spine and made alarms clang in his head – he didn't think he had ever heard his father use that kind of tone, even at his angriest. "I await your answer."

"I…" Ceodore's throat clenched as he struggled to banish the tears building in his eyes – their blurring veil was transforming Cecil into a towering shadow of silver and obsidian "…I may not know all of Kain's trespasses, but I _do_ know all of his virtue – because of the stories you and Mother have told me, and because of what I've witnessed for myself." He swallowed what felt like a ball of razor blades, his heart hammering in his chest. "I've only come to realize it now – but the moment I met Kain, I trusted him with my very life – because he reminded me of how you _used_ to be."

Cecil suddenly withdrew his crystal blade in a blinding flash of light, a roar of wind tearing through the throne room as he leapt for Ceodore. The prince stood frozen in place, the distant wail of his name from someone – his mother, maybe? – penetrating the throb of the blood rushing to his ears. An explosion of rainbow prisms burst in his vision as Kain swung his lance to meet Cecil's blade, the force of the impact tossing Cecil backward into his throne. Ragnarok clattered to the floor, the pillar of light that had briefly illuminated the blade fading to dusk.

"Cecil!" Kain growled, tossing his lance to the floor and throwing himself on top of Cecil to pin him. Ceodore shrieked as a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him into a shaking embrace wrenched with sobbing. It was only when the curtain of golden hair fell over him that he realized it was his mother, finally allowing his legs to falter so that he could sink into her warmth.

Kain slammed Cecil's shoulders into the throne's backrest, his thighs pinning Cecil's waist to the seat as he grabbed Cecil's jaw and forced him to look up into the dim candlelight that surrounded them. Cecil simply smiled, his eyes flashing as the amazonite and pearls laced in his hair clinked against each other.

"What's wrong, Kain? Are you being serious!?"

Kain desperately searched his friend's face for anything – _anything_ – that would prove that this Cecil was a ruse, a fake, yet another imposter – his eyes kept returning to Cecil's darkened gaze, swearing he could still see a glimmer of that inimitable crystal blue in their depths. He leaned in closer, his ponytail sliding over his shoulder, when he felt a sudden spasm of pain lurch in his stomach. He looked down, almost disbelieving, when he saw Cecil's ivory fingers wrapped around a fast-fading crystal, the pointed end buried in Kain's abdomen and dripping with blood. The crystal dissipated into a haze of glittering light, the mysterious girl quietly lowering her hand from where she was standing behind them.

"Cecil…" Kain moaned, clenching the wound with one hand as he tried to push himself up with the other, his lungs seizing for the breath that had been knocked out of him.

Cecil decided to lend some assistance by giving him a violent shove, pushing Kain backwards off of the throne and watching with a crooked smile as the dragoon helplessly fell down the stairs, a fresh spray of blood spouting between his fingers.

* * *

"Everyone is still tuckered out," Rydia reported as she emerged onto the Falcon's deck, tucking her hair behind her ears. "But Izayoi said they were doing well – their bodies are just trying to heal after everything they have been through." She looked away for a moment, sighing. "Ramuh and Shiva didn't exactly go easy on them, huh?"

"It's not your fault," Luca shook her head. "So let's not start the "feel sorry for ourselves" bit, OK? All that matters is that they are safe now, and that they've got friends watching over them."

Rydia flushed, resting her hand on her hip. "It may not be my fault, but..."

"We'll be in Fabul soon," Edge called over his shoulder. Luca had finally relented and let him have a go at piloting the Falcon, mostly because she really, really just wanted to get another few hours of sleep before beginning what was likely to be another hellish day. Galactic storms, frozen kingdoms and good old-fashioned arson – what could possibly be waiting for them next?

Rydia perked up at this announcement, running over to the railing of the ship so she could have a better view. It had been very strange to wake up that morning to no sun in the sky – and that dreaded moon was closer than ever. Fabul, another castle like Eblan's that had its village housed inside its fortress walls, was tucked in the lowlands between Mount Hobs and another, smaller mountain range to the east. It was nearly entirely shrouded in shadow that morning, but Rydia could still make out the marks of several craters that had crashed into the continent as a result of the meteor storm.

"I hope Yang has some sort of good news for us," Rydia sighed. "I'm so anxious to see him – he must have some idea of what we can do about all of this."

Rydia, Edge, Luca and the man in black were greeted at the castle gates by a pair of monks standing guard. Rydia had been able to see from her position on the deck the way they immediately stiffened when the Falcon made its landing, which she knew did not bode well in terms of her fantasy of this being a productive visit.

"Who goes there?" one of the monks demanded as they made their way down the sloping hill, raising a brass knuckle-equipped hand.

"Wait! I know them," the other monk blinked, taking a step forward. "They're friends of the king!"

"It's been a very long time," Rydia called out, giving what she hoped was interpreted as a friendly wave. The monks couldn't help but beam back at her, returning her greeting.

"Lady Rydia!"

"And King Edge of Eblan!"

"Why do I get second billing?" Edge pouted.

Rydia jogged the rest of the way to the gatehouse, panting for breath by the time she reached the monks. "The situation with the moon has thrown the entire world into disarray. How have things been in Fabul? Is everyone doing OK?"

The first monk scratched his head. "Well…it's just been one disaster after another these days. I fear our latest one is that the Sylphs have been laying siege to our castle."

"What!?" Rydia gasped.

"The petrified fairies from the Underworld?" Luca blinked. "Why would they be in Fabul?"

The second monk shrugged. "The moon must be affecting them in some unfathomable way. We can't understand a thing they are saying – it's all just high-pitched gibberish."

Right on cue, a piercing shriek emitted from inside the castle gates, followed by the sound of pounding footsteps and a man's voice shouting "Go away…! I don't _know_ what you want!"

Edge raised his eyebrows. "Seems to be that way."

The monk sighed. "They haven't actually harmed anyone – yet. If you get too close, they'll scream your head off and pull your hair or try to bite your face. But since they won't let us near them, and we can't understand what it is they want…we're at a stalemate. But enough of this. Please, come in – just don't look at them, and you'll be fine."

"My word," Rydia muttered as they stepped inside. The courtyard was flooded with sylphs as far as the eye could see – they hovered in the air in a scourge of green transparent wings, and clung to the trees that twisted over the garden walls like locusts. She had never seen so many sylphs in one place in her entire life – even in their home deep within the Underworld, only a few dared to show their faces at one time to her. The shrieking was near-unbearable to listen to, and before long, she found herself clapping her hands over her ears.

 _It's like they've been driven into a frenzy – they're not giving off quite the same vibe that Ramuh, Shiva and Ifrit were when they were under the mysterious girl's control. There is still something not right about them – but I just can't put my finger on what it is. On her own, a sylph is fairly harmless – but if they come to their senses and banded together, they could do some serious damage to Fabul._

"Is there anything you can do about this?" Edge asked over the screaming, and Rydia shook her head.

"Sylphs normally take action as a cohesive unit – it's clear to me that whatever allows them to communicate with each other is on the fritz. I wouldn't be able to heal just one of them – I'd need to get them all at once. And in this type of environment, and with this many of them – that's impossible just using the ruby."

"Darn," Luca frowned. "I guess that would have been too easy…" She swatted at a fairy that had come too close to her ear, the sylph hissing and baring her tiny white fangs in response.

They made their way into the grand hall, everyone letting out an audible sigh of relief as the doors to the next cloister were shut behind them, finally drowning out the sylphs' racket. Another pair of monks ushered them into the throne room, from which Shelia had been just about to exit. She nearly slammed into Rydia, blinking in surprise when she saw the emerald-haired girl materialize before her.

"Sheila!" Rydia gasped, stumbling back.

"Oh, Rydia!" Shelia exclaimed, throwing her arms around her and pulling her tightly into her chest. Rydia squirmed uncomfortably, her cheeks burning against Sheila's over fluffed pillow-like breasts. From behind Shelia, the duke consort appeared, pressing his palms together.

"And here is Lord Edge, too."

"Like I'm an afterthought…" Edge muttered.

Rydia finally managed to break free of Sheila's grip, taking a gulp of air. "Where is Yang?" Shelia sighed, glancing back at the duke consort before replying.

"Away on business, sadly. You just nearly missed him."

"I haven't seen the princess around either…" Edge trailed off, and Shelia bit her lip. An uncomfortable silence followed, and finally, the duke consort shook his head, gently resting his hand on Sheila's shoulder.

"The two of them boarded a ship headed for Baron."

Golbez crossed his arms over his chest. _Well, that's the exact opposite of what we wanted to hear…fantastic._

"I'm afraid that's as much as we know for now..." the chancellor piped up, although he was so short that no one could see him behind either Sheila or the duke consort. Sheila snorted, her cheeks flushing deep red.

"What of it? I'm not worried about them. My husband is more than capable of protecting our daughter. Why, knowing him, I'm sure he's out there busting heads as we speak!"

Edge crossed his arms over his chest. "No doubt, no doubt. The King of Fabul is a stout man indeed. Is that why he was sent to Baron? To bust heads, as you say?" Shelia flicked her gaze away, her eyes hardening.

"Not exactly, but…an agent of Baron stole the Wind Crystal, and Yang had some questions. Ursula insisted on accompanying him – she did her best to defend the crystal, but she was outfoxed, I'm afraid."

"An agent of Baron…?" Rydia bit her lip. "Was it a woman…?"

"Far from it," Shelia huffed. "It was that turncoat Kain Highwind – came back for round two, I suppose! If he hadn't played so dirty, Ursula would have handed him his broken spine – I can assure you of that."

"Kain was here too?" Rydia shook her head. "And he _fought_ Ursula? But how could he have made it to Fabul so fast from Mysidia?"

"So does that mean Mysidia's crystal has been taken too?" The duke consort sighed – Rydia needed not reply, as the look on her face had told him everything he had needed to know. "The Red Wings accompanied Kain. It was an all-out assault, unfortunately – many were injured, but luckily, we had no casualties. What is worse, however, is that we haven't heard from Yang or Ursula since they left – we thought by now they would have at least sent word on a ship returning to our harbor that they had reached Baron, or some sort of messenger."

 _Of course,_ Rydia frowned. _No wonder the monks looked so panicked when we touched down with an airship. As far as they are concerned, Baron has just committed an act of war – and Yang is walking right into the maw of the enemy!_

She could tell that Sheila was worried sick about her family – she was sure that was where the woman's sudden bout of defensiveness had sprung from. Under normal circumstances, Sheila would have insisted they stay for a home cooked meal and spent hours trying to pry into all of their private business so that she had some fresh gossip – but right now, she was a woman on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Rydia took hold of Sheila's hand.

"We'll find Yang and Ursula – I promise you! We're heading to Baron ourselves anyway."

 _"_ Hold up!" Sheila sniffled, tugging her hand away and reaching around in her apron.

"Yes?" Rydia blinked, and Shelia produced a small frying pan and a ladle, shoving them into Rydia's arms before she could protest.

"I want you to have this pan. I have a feeling my husband needs it right now. As for Ursula...this is her favorite ladle to cook with when we make our supper together every mid-week. Hopefully it makes her a little less homesick. She doesn't like to admit it, but she gets lonely sometimes when she travels – even to a place as familiar to her now as Baron."

Rydia stared at the two cooking instruments with a blank face, and Edge snickered.

"What, no knife? You know, that would be a lot more useful in battle."

Shelia shrugged. "Sorry, but I'm all out of stock of my good knives. The boys around here sure love to use them for throwing practice. Anyway, I want all of you to be careful out there. I trust you'll know what to do with these if the time comes."

Rydia could feel the blood draining from her face. _She's not seriously proposing we do THAT again…? No, I must be delusional from lack of sleep._

"What will you do about the fairies?" Luca asked, and Shelia shook her head.

"I don't think there's much we can do, hon. They seem pretty content here for the time being."

"That's not the _exact_ term I would use," Rydia tapped her finger to her chin. "It's almost as if they are searching for something…I wish I could understand, but it's impossible to communicate with them in this state."

"The sylphs will come to no harm while they are here," the duke consort offered. "You let us worry about them for now."

It had become obvious by the tension crackling in the air that Fabul had not much else to offer them and no desire to entertain guests for longer than needed with Yang and Ursula missing. The party said their farewells, and returned to the Falcon, disappointed and empty-handed save for the ominous treasure Sheila had bestowed upon Rydia. Not sure what else to do, Rydia tied each of the instruments to her belt using a leather strip for safekeeping.

"Is this really OK, leaving the sylphs behind?" Edge asked, starting the ship's engine with Luca precariously hovering over his shoulder.

"I'll need to come up with a plan to heal all of them at once," Rydia frowned, collapsing on top of a crate and sighing. "The Sylphs as a race are a strange breed – they're not exactly eidolons, but they're not human, either. They carry all the powers of an eidolon, but they refuse to live in the Feymarch and be ruled by Asura and Leviathan or test the will of any summoners that wish to call them. The only reason they ever offered to help me during the war in the first place was because…" She trailed off, her voice dropping. "…Was because of _Yang_."

"So if we find Yang, we may also find someone who can speak to the sylphs," the man in black said, and Rydia nodded.

"But we know Yang is not in Baron," Edge shook his head. "At least, not the town – if he's in the castle with Cecil…"

"…And we can't get into the castle without all of the eidolons' powers…" Luca added.

"…Then we're in a conundrum, huh?" Rydia bit down on her lip as the Falcon's engines roared to life.

 _Always, it seems – we take one step forward…and then two steps back._

* * *

 _Baron_

Edward and Cid raced to catch Kain before his body could hit the floor, each man securing one of Kain's shoulders with their weight as Kain dug his fingers yet deeper against the gaping wound, hissing through clenched teeth and throwing his head back.

"Ngh!"

"Cecil, stop this!" Rosa cried as Cecil rose from his throne, bending down to retrieve his sword and making his way toward Kain to finish him off. Ceodore jerked away from her, withdrawing his sword as he slid to a stop in front of Kain at the foot of the stairs, lowering himself into a defensive stance.

"Stop! Now!" Ceodore choked, and Cecil paused, his smile fading.

"Ceodore..."

"L-lower your sword, Father!" Ceodore ordered, a little louder this time. He could practically hear Biggs's ghost screaming in his ear, telling him to say it like he meant it.

Instead of heeding Ceodore's warning, Cecil took another step forward, his cheeks flushed as his lips twisted into an ugly sneer. It took everything in Ceodore's power to not back away – he planted his heels deeper into the floor as a quiet act of rebellion.

"Ceodore! You dare point your sword at _your own father!?_ "

"Ceodore!" Rosa pressed her hands together, the horrifying realization suddenly dawning on her that she would need to be prepared to either cast a spell that would defend her son from her husband's blade, or one that would strike him down before he could make the attempt…

Ceodore glared up at Cecil, defiantly cocking his blade. He thought of the hooded man's – no, _Kain's_ – final request of him aboard the Falcon before they had been thrust into this madness.

 _"…Above anything else, you must learn to trust your intuition."_

 _My heart…it's telling me that this is wrong – screaming that Father's conquest of the crystals is not the way! Something has twisted him, defiled his thoughts – if this is the path that I am expected to follow as the Prince of Baron – as the heir to the paladin…_

 _…Then I shall blaze my own instead – that's what Kain taught me!_

Rosa had slipped beside Kain while Ceodore distracted Cecil, pressing her palm to his torn flesh and hurriedly summoning a Curaja spell. Kain rose to his feet as the blessing of rainbow light washed over him, holding out his palm. The holy lance re-materialized in his grip as he slowly opened his eyes, taking in Ceodore's slight form – the prince was the only thing keeping Cecil from diving forward and slitting his throat.

 _This is why I didn't want to get you involved – the gods forgive me for yet another grievous sin!_

"Ceodore..." Kain began, but Cecil raised his blade, a flash of cerulean reflecting in the crystal as Ceodore silently locked his gaze on his father's beckoning weapon. Cecil took another step closer, but even still, Ceodore did not move, despite the tremors that had overtaken him.

"Answer me, my son!"

* * *

Two faces were fading in and out Leonora's focus – another wave of nausea gripped her stomach as she struggled to keep her eyelids for slamming shut like two iron-plated doors.

"Are you OK? You were moaning in your sleep."

One of the faces had morphed into an elderly man with a white goatee – his warm, ebony stare was searching hers concernedly as his hand reached out and pressed something cool and soft to her forehead – she felt the invigorating chill electrify her facial muscles and sank back into her pillow. Something about his deliberate, but gentle touch reminded her of her maternal grandfather – he had passed right before the war had ignited from an unexpected illness, had been her first experience with death before the world had been suddenly doused in it.

"It's Miss Leonora, right?" the other face spoke. By contrast, he was young, his face unlined and a burst of color – violet hair was hanging in his clear, earnest gaze, and Leonora wondered how he could possibly see what he was doing.

"Yes," Leonora choked out, her voice cracking. The violet-haired boy presented a glass of water, tipping it to her lips as she swallowed it back gratefully. She remembered these two now – their names had escaped her, if they had even told her in the first place – they had welcomed her and Palom onto the Falcon in Troia. There had been four of them – ninjas from Eblan that were followers of King Edge. When Leonora realized she had been in the presence of royalty, she had nearly passed out in shock – Palom had neglected to tell her that "Edge" as the ninja had casually introduced himself was actually King Edward Geraldine, and that "Luca" was Princess Luca of the Underworld – she had been a dithering fool in front of some major VIPs, and Palom had acted like it was absolutely nothing! She had been expecting the dark, statuesque man in black to be some sort of royalty too – the truth was, he was the kind of person Leonora had expected the King of Eblan to resemble rather than the wiry, youthful silver-haired rogue – but Palom seemingly had no idea who he was.

"It looks like you've developed just a touch of fever," the elder man said. "Your body is fighting off something – best to just keep resting a while yet."

Leonora finished the water, her gaze flicking to the bed next to hers. The boy's eyes followed hers, and he smiled.

"Are you worried about Palom? He's fine. Still sleeping."

"Good…" Leonora trailed off, her stomach clenching again. She gasped, her eyes watering as a blast of hot air burst in her lungs, and sank deeper into her bed.

"Leonora?" the faces were fading to black again. Voices pulsing in and out of her ears like distant echoes over the horizon. She slid her hands to her scalding cheeks, the sound of shattering crystal on the crystal dais ringing over and over.

"The Fire Crystal…it too, is afraid…just like the Crystal of Earth…"

"Hey, calm down!" Tsukinowa frowned, glancing up at Zangetsu. Zangetsu shook his head slowly. "Master and the others are at Damcyan right now. It will be OK – we just need to wait for them here."

"It's too late…!" Leonora whispered, her eyes squeezing shut. "The crystals…all of them…they are _drowning_ in darkness…!"

* * *

"A little too quiet, don't you think?"

Edge put his arm out to stop Rydia and Luca from moving any closer past the castle gate. They looked at each other as the man in black glanced back at the Falcon to make sure they weren't being followed. It was parked only a short distance away, the propellers still slowing down from when Edge had cut the engine. If Fabul had fallen to just one of Baron's ex-warriors, what did that mean for a kingdom like Damcyan that had a fraction of its might, but nevertheless held a crystal?

 _If Baron executed another massacre in Damcyan to get the Crystal of Fire…!_

There were none of Damcyan's usual desert winds that would normally tousle Rydia's waves whenever she graced Edward's doorstep, and without the light of the sun, the normally-blistering late-morning heat had taken on the guise of brisk twilight. As they had made their landing, Rydia thought she saw dark shadows overlaid in the northern keep where Edward's throne room was situated, but she couldn't tell if it was a trick of the light, or evidence of something more sinister.

 _With the Crystal of Wind stolen, the planet's air currents are already fading away – the change happened so must faster than last time. Has the crystal already left our world?_ Rydia's heart was racing, her eyes darting everywhere for a sign of life – no matter how miniscule – but not even a torch had been left aflame.

"There are people inside. I can _feel_ it," Luca whispered. "They've gotta be hiding."

A sudden scratching noise skittered over the air, and Rydia unwittingly gripped Edge's arm. Edge gulped, his cowl suddenly feeling a lot like someone was using it to suffocate him.

"That didn't sound like a person," the man in black frowned.

"L-Let's go," Rydia muttered, shakily releasing Edge and reaching for her whip. "It could be an eidolon."

They opened the abandoned castle doors, letting themselves into the gatehouse. Rydia's eyes widened when she saw what had made the noise – a rust-colored mess of twitching, spider-like legs with prominent, pearl eyes that sat above a pair of glistening pinchers. The creature was climbing its way into a flowerbed, scratching the limestone frame carelessly as its pinchers crunched around a bundle of flowers and promptly beheaded the blooms before its front legs shoved the remainder of the stems and leaves into its gaping, drooling mouth.

In the left wing of the courtyard, an entire colony of the beasts were sleeping in a pile, their idle, glassy eyeballs still wide-open but unseeing. To the right, yet more of them were scuttling around, turning their attentions to the new arrivals but not yet ready to divert their activities from the rotting Desert Sahagin corpse one (or perhaps many?) of them had dragged in to the castle to feast upon.

"...Antlions!" Rydia gasped, and Luca swallowed a shaky gulp of air.

"You know these monsters? Are they eidolons?"

"Yes. And no," Rydia watched as another Antlion slithered on the outer keep wall just a few feet above them, seemingly impervious to gravity as it clicked and snorted away, disappearing over the ledge.

"Did they overrun the entire country while we were away!?" Edge muttered, and Rydia turned to face the group.

"Antlions are normally peaceful, docile animals, from what Edward has told me. Other than the one time Cecil and I encountered one to try to procure a Sand Pearl for Rosa, I've never heard of them harming people before...Edward's family has been guarding them for centuries. Normally, they live in a cavern to the east – I can't imagine why they would come to a populated area like this."

"It must be the moon, then," Golbez frowned. "Like everything else on this planet, they've been driven mad by the invading lunar rays and the shift of the tides."

"Well, it's either us or them," Edge sighed, withdrawing a dagger. "We can't have a repeat of what happened in Eblan." Rydia grabbed his wrist, shaking her head frantically.

"Wait!"

"Rydia..." Edge yanked his hand back, to no avail. "Come on, let me go."

"Please spare their lives! They're not the ones at fault here," Rydia glanced back at the sleeping pile to their left, biting her lip. "They're the same as the sylphs…something beyond their control is driving them to act this way. Do you think a normally reclusive beast like this would WANT to be around so many people? Besides, if we kill all of the antlion population, there will be none left to create Sand Pearls to cure Desert Fever – who knows how many people might suffer because of what we've done?"

Edge sighed, lowering his hand to his waist. Rydia released him, and he reluctantly slid his dagger back into its sheath. "Fair enough."

"Thank you," Rydia lowered her head, her hair falling over her face like a curtain. "Now, let's hurry for the throne room – perhaps Edward has taken refuge there – with the crystal!"

The man in black took the lead, not even flinching as he stepped next to an Antlion that was salivating and hissing at him above the door they needed to enter to reach the next chamber. He stared up at the antlion defiantly, his hand outstretched and inching closer to the latch. Just as his fingers brushed over the polished brass, a screaming blur of black rushed past his cheek, causing a fine lock of severed hair to flutter to the ground.

With a "twang", an iron arrow bounced into the ground at the man's feet, narrowly missing him by centimeters. He glanced up, eyes narrowed, at a pair of guards who had snuck onto a balcony above, each equipped with a bow and arrow trained upon him.

"Stop!" Rydia cried, and one of the guards responded by turning his bow on her instead. She raised her hands into the air in surrender, trying to suppress the overwhelming urge to turn tail and flee.

"Who goes there!?" the guard aiming at Rydia demanded. The other drew his string taunt in warning, and Golbez reluctantly raised his hands along with her, grimacing.

"We heard you discussing the Crystal of Fire!" the other guard barked, and Luca blinked, looking around. They had been practically whispering as to not disturb the antlions – how in the world could they had possibly been heard?

"We mean no harm!" Rydia cried, taking a step forward, wincing as she watched the arrow aimed at her lower from her head to her chest. A pair of precise, clicking footsteps rang out, and a new figure appeared between the soldiers, her hands clamping down on the soldier's shoulders. Her navy hair was pulled back into a severe bun, black-framed rectangular glasses sliding down her nose as she peered over the balcony's ledge in a billowing black coat that camouflaged her within the shadows plaguing the lightless castle.

"Hold your fire!" she suddenly barked, and the two soldiers dropped their weapons in the blink of an eye. The woman stepped forward, crossing her arms over her chest, and Rydia and Golbez reluctantly lowered their hands.

"You are Rydia of Mist, yes?" the woman asked, and Rydia nodded.

 _It's hard to tell in this darkness, but…I think I know her! That regal tone…_

"I am. And I believe you are..."

"Harley," she replied, taking a long look at each of them as she spoke. Although it had been a while, she recognized most of them – Rydia of Mist, King Edge of Eblan, and Princess Luca of the Underworld. For the benefit of the stranger in black, she finally added: "Royal secretary to King Edward."

"I thought so," Rydia smiled. "You have accompanied Edward to Mist many times."

Edge decided to cut right to the chase – he had already had enough, and he hadn't even gotten the pleasure of being in the Damcyan guards' crosshairs. "Where _is_ Edward?"

Harley pressed her lips together, reaching up to slide her glasses back in place. "You really don't know what's happening?"

"If we did, would we be here in a pit of monsters, asking you?" Edge frowned, and Harley tilted her head.

"I suppose not. I'll be down in a moment."

"But the antlions…!" Luca protested. But it was too late – Harley had already disappeared, her two guards following her. A few minutes later, she emerged from the door Golbez had tried to enter, alone, arching a brow as she took in her surroundings.

"Ah, there's even more than just a few hours ago. They must be very distressed – I hope nothing has happened to their nest."

"How come they're not attacking us?" Rydia blinked, and Harley reached down, snapping a blade of long grass from one of the flower boxes and holding it up between two pinched fingers.

"From within the castle, one of our musicians is playing a tune on a high-frequency whistle that only certain types of creatures can hear. This song in particular is one the royal family used to play when they would hunt for Sand Pearls in the antlion's lair – even though they are docile creatures, they can get overzealous when they feel their offspring is being threatened. That song is being transmitted outside by this plant. It's not something our human ears can pick up on, but it's the only thing keeping the antlions from succumbing completely to that moon's lunacy. We still have everyone hiding though, just in case…"

"Whisperweed," Edge nodded. "That's how you could hear us talking about the crystal."

"That's right," Harley flicked the grass away, shaking her head. "I'm sorry for the lack of welcome on our part. It seems that the lines drawn between friend and foe have suddenly become quite obscured, and we have been left doubting. If you have come calling upon the Crystal of Fire, I'm afraid you are too late. It was taken by the Red Wings and a dragoon I am told goes by the name of Highwind. A friend of King Cecil's, if I am remembering my history correctly."

"So that's it…" Rydia was shocked to feel tears sting her eyes as her throat choked on her words. "…All of the crystals really _have_ been taken. Do you know where he went?"

"King Edward chased him back to Baron – Kain abducted Queen Rosa when he stole the crystal," Harley looked away as Rydia's jaw hit the ground. "I wasn't there when it happened – I was a coward and stayed hidden away under Edward's orders. Queen Rosa and Master Cid had come to Damcyan seeking refuge, and I was supposed to keep her safe in anticipation of Baron's assault. By the time the soldiers found me after Kain attacked us, Edward had left for Baron – they told me he was joined by Master Cid, Prince Ceodore, and a man they didn't recognize."

"…What?" Rydia bit her lip, shaking her head. "Cecil's whole family was here, without him? _Why_ …?"

"I can only speculate," Harley frowned. "Rosa and Cid told us that Cecil had sent them away days ago, begging them not to return to Baron – and neither of them had any idea where Ceodore was. The queen was on the verge of a breakdown in her short time here. But when Edward and I visited Cecil the other day, he told us Rosa was sick and that Ceodore was training."

"Cecil _lied_ to you guys?" Luca gasped. "That makes no sense. How could he not know where they were if he was the one who sent them away?"

"I wouldn't believe it myself had I not witnessed his treachery with my very eyes," Harley muttered. "But I overheard King Cecil's plans to assault Damcyan and take the crystal – and you can see the follow-through for yourselves in our now-decimated throne room. Edward was hurt badly in the attack – but still, he followed after that madman dragoon to try to save Rosa – and the crystal – from Baron's clutches."

"And we all know the mess that Baron's been in since then," Edge shook his head. "Who knows what could've happened to them? We can't even get near the castle – it's being protected by a magic shield. If Edward and the others are inside, there's no escaping for them now."

Golbez crossed his arms, gazing down at his feet. _Brother…why!? Before, we could only hypothesize…but this girl's account seems to confirm first-hand what we've all secretly feared…_

Harley snorted under her breath. "King Edward isn't someone who would fall into the enemy's hands so easily. And with Prince Ceodore and Cid at his side, I'm sure there is only a greater chance for their success."

"Y-You're right!" Rydia smiled weakly. "It's not over yet – maybe they'll talk some sense into Cecil and take the crystals back!"

"Of course I'm right," Harley reached into her coat pocket, withdrawing a pair of black leather fingerless gloves and elegantly sliding them over her hands. "You're trying to find a way into Baron, right? I'll be coming with you."

Edge barked out a sarcastic laugh. "I'd reconsider that. This isn't exactly staid clerical work here. Have you any idea what we've been battling against these past few days?" He waved a hand over the antlion-littered courtyard. "This isn't even close to the craziest thing we've seen since that moon came around."

Harley wrinkled her nose. "I may not be a warrior, but I have other ways of being useful."

"I would like to formally request she join you as well, sir."

The doors opened behind Harley, and Damcyan's chancellor stepped outside, much to everyone's surprise. Harley whirled around, a flush crawling over her cheeks.

"What...?"

The chancellor folded his hands together, shaking his head. "There is no one in the world who cares more for our lord than you, Harley. Damcyan does need you…but I think King Edward needs you more still. I know you think he abandoned you – but that simply isn't the case. I think you'll understand if you go along and see for yourself what he is trying to accomplish."

"Erg…" Harley reddened deeper. "What His Highness does or doesn't do is none of my concern. I wish only to be of aid in returning the Crystal of Fire to her place."

 _Oh my gods, she's in love with Edward!_ Rydia's eyes widened, her heart fluttering at just the sight of the normally cool as a cucumber Harley's sudden bout of dithering. _How could I have never noticed before…?_ She smiled encouragingly at Edge, who blushed a little himself and rubbed the back of his head. Stoic, all-business Harley he could handle – love-starved maiden Harley made him feel as if he had stepped into an alternate dimension.

"Be that as it may, I can't just bring a mere secretary into full-on battle. You can come with us, but only until we meet with Edward again, okay?"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" Harley exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "You won't regret it!"

"We will guard King Edward's castle with all of our forces!" the chancellor swept into a bow. "Our lord's fate, we will leave in your hands. Don't worry about us while you are away – just focus on bringing King Edward home."

"We'll take good care of Harley and Edward!" Luca smiled up at Harley. "You can stay inside the Falcon until we track him down. I'm sure your advice will prove invaluable."

"I'm glad you think so," Harley lifted her head, all traces of the giddy woman from just moments before suddenly gone. "So, what's the plan to get into Baron?"

Rydia quickly explained the mission given to them in Mist to gather the eidolons, and about her theory that she could borrow the eidolon's power to break the spell keeping them locked out of the castle. Harley nodded, not interrupting with any commentary until Rydia had finished.

"This all has to do with this new moon, doesn't it?"

"I suspect so," Rydia frowned. "I haven't been able to summon an eidolon since its return."

"You said "return". Does that mean you think it's the same moon as before?" Harley raised an eyebrow, and Rydia blinked, pressing her hand to her chest.

"Well…yes, I suppose that's what I've assumed this entire time. Do you think otherwise, Harley?"

The secretary frowned, pressing her lips together as she peered over her shoulder at the looming orb on the horizon.

"I've been thinking about it ever since Edward and I returned from Baron – I don't think it's the same moon at all. I don't think it belongs to the Lunarians, either – which then begs the question of what the connection is between this moon, the crystals, and Cecil, does it not?" She turned back around, and briefly, her eyes fell on Golbez – he could feel his heart leaping in his throat as she adjusted her glasses and mercifully turned her inquisitive gaze back to Rydia.

 _She knows…she knows Cecil's relationship with the Lunarians…and she knows this is not our ancestors' moon…!_

Rydia seemed as surprised as Golbez, not that she would have been able to tell had she seen Golbez's usual stone-faced reaction to Harley's hypothesis. Her own face had gone pale, and she could feel her fingers shaking as she clutched them into a white-knuckled fist.

"But if the mysterious girl that has been helping Baron hunt the crystals is not a Lunarian…then just who exactly is she? Are there truly other moons that carry life like Cecil and Fusoya's moon? And why would they pursue the crystals as eagerly as Zemus once had? Why do tragedies from seventeen years ago repeat themselves even now?"

"I don't know any of that," Harley said softly. "But it makes sense that this girl would arrive via that moon, no? Or perhaps more specifically, the meteor that fell between Damcyan and Fabul that King Cecil demanded we stay away from...?"

Golbez turned toward the moon, the blinding light forcing him to narrow his eyes as he drank it in along with Harley's dissertation. _Another meteor – there's one on the Blue Planet too, just like the one eating away at the Red Moon! That was where we found her...where she had risen from the ashes of our peaceful moon's destruction..._

On the Lunar Whale, while he had been hurtling toward the Blue Planet, the moon had seemed so massive – now that he was this close to it, he felt as if he would be swallowed whole by its gravity at any moment.

 _It would not do me any good to tell them what little I know right now – they would only get more suspicious, and we're so close to finding a way to break the spell keeping us from Cecil. We can't afford distractions – I'll deal none with my own hand. I can only silently concede that you are right, Rydia – she's no Lunarian._

 _And I suspect based on her apparent immortality that she is far, far from human…_


	31. Act Thirty-One: The Heir's Tale

Act Thirty-One: The Heir's Tale | The White Reflection

Harley nodded grimly as she half-listened to Luca's introductions of the rest of the folks hidden away in the hull of the Falcon. Her gaze drifted first from Porom's still form, and then to her black mage brother, who was half-sprawled in his bed, his jaw clenched mid-nightmare. Harley had not seen them in years, and made Luca repeat herself when she had rattled off the twins' names – it seemed impossible that they had grown up so much in such a short time. She found herself daydreaming fondly of the day she had first met them at Damcyan's reconstruction ceremony – they had only been six years old, the size of precocious dolls, and had been identical in every way except for their strikingly opposite personalities. Her life had been very difficult at that time – on a personal level, she was still reeling from the first anniversary of her parents' shocking deaths, and coming up on her first full year of uprooting her peaceful Troian existence to work for King Edward, whose project to rebuild Damcyan had been more challenging than she could have ever imagined.

But on that beautiful summer day, when Edward's friends from the world over had come to see the accumulation of her hard work, seemingly endless tears, and long nights of dreaming and planning, every ounce of her effort had been rewarded when she saw the gleam of pride shining in his eyes. For the first time since she had met him, Harley had been able to witness Edward hold his head high and finally feel as if he belonged on the same level as the others, even if they had never thought otherwise. And getting to meet the people who had inspired Edward on a daily basis had been as much a delight for Harley as it had been for him – it had filled her heart with an enchanting fervor knowing that they had all been through hell and back together, and still cared for one another as intensely as they had during the war.

Next to Palom was a young woman Luca had introduced as Leonora, although Harley thought she had picked up a strange quiver in Luca's voice when she had said the girl's name. Like the twins, Leonora was out cold, but Harley recognized her attire as that of a trainee of the Troian Epopts. Had they met under better circumstances, she would have been thrilled to converse with someone from the place she had always thought of as her second hometown, even though she had now officially lived in Damcyan longer than she had in either Kaipo or Troia.

"What happened to them?" Harley nodded toward the three bedridden mages, and Luca sighed.

"Kain, the mysterious girl who has been hunting the crystals, and the eidolons are what happened."

"I'm afraid the eidolons haven't gone easy on the regions they've been stalking," Gekkou said. "It seems that once the mysterious girl got what she wanted, she left them to their own devices. But without their true master's voice to guide them, they've gone totally berserk."

"I see," Harley chewed on her lower lip, frowning. "Well, in that case, I may have a clue on where to find your next eidolon."

"What?"

Rydia had stepped into the stateroom, the shadows under her eyes now more pronounced than ever. The news that the last of the crystals were truly lost to them now had shaken loose yet more despair in her heart – the last time that had happened, the planet had been (quite memorably) razed by the Giant of Babil. What fresh hell would be waiting for them this time if they _were_ to make it to Baron?

Harley whirled around to face her, her cheeks tingeing. She didn't like it to look as if she had been keeping anything from them, especially after Edge had been willing to let her tag along.

"Sorry, Rydia – it's just something that came to mind as Luca was getting me up to speed. When the meteor storm hit, there were many villagers from Kaipo who fled for the castle to take shelter. A few of them told me that as the meteors came down, Kaipo was invaded by monsters – relentless waves of them."

"Oh my gods," Rydia paled, pressing her hand to her chest. "Why Kaipo? They have no crystal…"

"We spared what we could of the guard to investigate," Harley sighed. "But none of them had returned by the time you reached Damcyan. The good news is that the villagers didn't say the monsters were openly aggressive – yet. The bad news was that some of them told me the timing of the monsters coincided a bit too conveniently with some strangers that made their way into town – and one of them was definitely a girl."

"The mysterious girl!?" Rydia cried. "And perhaps one of her cohorts…maybe Kain!"

"My father did say she controlled an army of monsters when she attacked our crystal," Luca frowned. "This sounds like her calling card."

Rydia stared anxiously at the map hanging behind Harley, her fingers twitching. "We still need our rematch with Titan in Agart – not to mention we've seen no sign of Odin, Asura, Leviathan, Bahamut, or the Mist Dragon. Could one of them really be hiding in Kaipo?" Before she could stop herself, she let escape a quiet whimper. "How will we ever find them all in time…? Every minute that passes, the crystals grow further from our reach…!"

"We could split up," Gekkou shrugged. "Even without an airship, we of the Eblan Four can manage just fine…"

" _No_!" Edge had stomped down the stairs, gingerly brushing Rydia aside as he barged in. "Splitting up is not an option. We've only just now found each other again – and we've all seen what that witch is capable of! If one of us finds an eidolon without Rydia…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "…It doesn't seem likely we'd survive the encounter."

"Edge…!" Rydia protested, but only half-heartedly. She knew every word he spoke was true – she couldn't guarantee his friends' safety if they struck out on their own – hell, she couldn't even guarantee her own.

"What do you want to do, Rydia?" Izayoi asked. She was sitting on a bed next to Porom, her eyebrows raised. "What does your gut tell you?"

"I…" Rydia slumped against the map on the wall, staring up at the ceiling. "I've been hoping… _praying_ …that my mother might provide me more guidance to help complete this mission. But I've heard nothing since we left Mist. I don't want more people to get hurt, but it seems like no matter where we go, that just keeps happening…" She gazed over at Porom, Palom and Leonora, her eyes darkening.

"You've got to trust yourself, Rydia," Luca threw her arms around her, squeezing tightly. "It's all thanks to you that we've gotten back three eidolons so far – and we can get the rest, too! If the mysterious girl really is in Kaipo, she might have some of them with her!"

"…You're right," Rydia replied, sinking against Luca and closing her eyes as she finally hugged her back. "Plus, you must be worried too, huh Harley? Isn't Kaipo where you grew up?"

"…Yes," Harley blinked. _She really remembered such an insignificant detail about me that I don't even recall telling her? Lady Rydia, your heart really is too kind – I can only imagine what this hunt for your eidolons is doing to you on the inside._ "I do admit to being a little worried with my lord not being around to tend to Kaipo during this crisis, but my concern continues to lie with helping you succeed in your mission to infiltrate Baron."

"Then let's go to Kaipo," Rydia smiled laboriously. "We won't turn our backs on anyone that needs help – that's not what King Edward would want, right? And if the mysterious girl is there…I'll smack some sense into her myself!"

* * *

 _Baron_

 _You can't beat him._ Ceodore's heartbeat punctuated each word as he warily took in his approaching father, whose blade was inching closer with every step he took down the stairs. In mere moments, Cecil would be right in Ceodore's face – the boy would be able to see the fog of his breath on the Ragnarok before it was run through him.

 _He's one of the strongest knights of the realm – no, on the entire planet. You're just a rookie Red Wing – and you have no control over the light you've been gifted – not like he does. You'll be no good to anyone dead – you need to think of something else._

So Ceodore quietly lowered his broadsword to his side, and Cecil paused mid-step, the fury encircling his eyes replaced by a brief flicker of relief.

"Well done, my son! I always knew I could rely on you!"

"…Is that really true, Father?" Ceodore asked softly, and Cecil smirked, suddenly lunging forward and grabbing Ceodore by his scarf, lifting him from the ground. Ceodore gasped for air as the fibers of the fabric wrapped around his throat, particles of white and black bleeding into the view of his father lifting him higher and higher. He could feel the fire building in his lungs – the deeper he tried to inhale, the higher the flames licked up his chest.

"Ceodore!" Rosa screamed, and Ceodore felt something powerful jolt through his body as the scarf loosened and he was released, falling toward the floor as the rest of his vision was devoured by darkness. Kain dove forward to catch him with a grunt, the scramble of footsteps closing in behind them. Ceodore could make out the distinct sound of a struggle – someone was being wrestled to the ground, and the echo of a slap reverberated in the air.

"Rosa!" Cid cried.

"Mother…" Ceodore whimpered, his last mote of consciousness fading away as he slumped against Kain's chest. Meanwhile, Rosa had been quickly overpowered by Cecil, whom she had tackled to free their son. Cecil had managed to roll on top of her, pinning her hips as he raised his fist in the air. Rosa winced and covered her face with her hands, her scream caught in her throat. Cid and Edward rushed toward him, but were thrown back by a curtain of golden light that set their nerve endings aflame with stun-inducing vibrations.

"Ah, so you are serious..." Cecil smiled. "Then allow me to repay the favor!" He uncurled the fingers in his raised fist, a blinding light rupturing from the center of the barrier that had been erected around him and Rosa. The ground beneath their feet began to quake, the sound of thundering hooves surrounding them as the light gave way to a heavy fog.

Kain bowed his head, narrowing his eyes as he pulled Ceodore closer into his chest. He could feel the whispers of a powerful incantation on the tip of his tongue; effervescent warmth flooding his body that he had never felt in all of his thirty-eight years.

 _Wake up, Ceodore… You have to wake up…!_

He could picture it in his mind as easily as if it were unfurling before him – Ceodore bathed in holy light; the kiss of fluttering phoenix down sinking into his skin as the light suddenly flooded his gaze once more; crystalline blue eyes snapping to attention while a ravenous rush of breath shook his form back to life.

 _Raise…!_

A shrieking whinny sent Kain's mind reeling as he snapped out of the throes of the spell. Standing next to Cecil, shrouded in the now-dying fog, sat a warrior upon a silver steed with a jet-black mane. He was encased in platinum-plated armor, with the exception of a golden mask that hid his face, crimson orbs appearing where his eyes should have been. Forked, twisting horns emerged from his helmet, a flowing midnight blue cape dragging on the floor behind him. In one hand, he held a massive steel scimitar the size of a child, and with the other, he clung to the horse's reins, not even flinching as the beast reared up on its hind legs and let out another ear-shattering cry.

Rosa had dared to open her eyes, wondering what was taking Cecil so long to strike her. When her gaze fell upon Cecil's new ally, she felt as if she had been dropped in the middle of a nightmare – the color drained from her face as she took in Cecil's unmitigated delight in the turn of the tide.

"Odin…! But how…?"

* * *

Upon landing in Kaipo, it did not take long for the truth behind the "monster invasion" to become apparent to Rydia and the others. At Edge's staunch insistence, Harley had stayed behind on the ship, so she was not able to play tour guide – but in lieu of a friendly face greeting them as they made their way through the village's main drag, they were instead welcomed by another seizing, shrieking tribe of sylphs fluttering overhead. There were not nearly as many as had taken over the courtyard in Fabul, but there were certainly enough to keep the majority of the residents off the streets for fear of being dive-bombed or going deaf from their obnoxious cries.

"The _sylphs_ were the monsters that came in with the meteor shower!" Rydia groaned, once again clapping her hands over her ears to block out the incessant wailing of the fairies. "What in the world could have brought them _here_ and Fabul?"

"Maybe they're looking for the mysterious girl," the man in black replied. "We should check out the inn, and see if she's hiding out there." He felt odd even suggesting it, but surely there wasn't that many places in a backwater village like this where a stranger could take refuge while eidolons took over the town – perhaps something had happened that had made her go into hiding.

 _Maybe that witch finally ran out of bodies._

They crossed the street to the inn, which thankfully was not locked – they half-expected to be barred out of every building in town just as they had in Mysidia and Mist. Rydia strode up to the counter, ignoring the wary glares of the villagers who had ducked inside for a drink or ten to drown out everything happening outside.

"Excuse me," Rydia tapped the counter, and the innkeeper stood up from where he had been stashing away a sack of gil on the shelves below. "We're agents of King Edward's secretary – we were sent to investigate the sylphs and the meteor storm." The lie rolled off of her tongue a little too easily – it unsettled her that she was getting good at this, and she thought once more of Cecil's lies about Rosa and Ceodore…

"Is that what those horrible things are called?" the innkeeper smirked, shaking his head. "They have rotten timing – coming right in the middle of our annual flower festival – all of the tourists fled."

"Has anyone been hurt?"

"No – just annoyed, mostly. The meteors, for the most part, avoided the village. We have a few damaged houses, but nothing that can't be fixed – it probably won't matter, seeing as how I'm fairly sure we're all going to die thanks to the return of the moon."

"That's positive thinking," Rydia sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead. She was glad she was the one talking, and not Edge – he would have reached over the counter at this point and throttled the guy out of pure impatience. "Secretary Harley was informed that some suspicious characters made their way into town. Are they still here?"

"Mmmm…" the innkeeper frowned. "Haven't had any strangers check in here – not since all the festival goers left." He gestured toward the crowd gathered around the bar and the common areas. "I know all these folks. Although I did hear that there were some people who were found washed up at the harbor, nearly drowned – a man and a young woman. If they weren't well, they were probably taken to Nick and Miaka's place on the northeast side of town. They had a bed that just freed up – Harley was laid up there just the other day herself with desert fever, you know."

"…You're kidding," Luca blinked, muttering to herself. "Desert fever puts you on your death bed, right? What kind of crazy person just jumps into a situation like this when they've just about died?"

 _Someone who has to be as insane as Harley to willingly deal with her normal everyday duties of keeping King Edward from dreaming away his kingdom,_ Rydia thought. She loved Edward with all of her heart, but she held no illusions about what it had to have been like to work for the man – he was an idealist, through and through, and that made Harley the yang to his yin in every way possible. To the innkeeper, she gave a megawatt smile that almost disguised how deflated she felt inside.

"Thanks for your help."

They retreated back outside into the swell of fairies, and Rydia pointed up the street toward a taupe-bricked home just a few yards south of the oasis the town had been built around.

"The house he was referring to is up there."

"How do you know?" Edge blinked. "You come to Kaipo often?"

Rydia shook her head. "Not exactly, no. But…"

 _You had said it yourself, Edge. The past is repeating – the clock rewinding to seventeen years prior…and back then…_

She could recall the memory clear as day – she had been begging Cecil to let them stop for a drink at the pub while they debated what their next move would be to escape Baron, but he had refused her, citing their lack of money. Being seven at the time, she had decided to take the situation into her own hands and had knocked on a stranger's door to beg. By a sick twist of fate, they had discovered the strangers were nursing Rosa, who had succumbed to desert fever searching for Cecil after rumors had made their way back to Baron that he and Kain had died in Mist.

They had only been together a short period of time, but that had consisted of Mist burning to the ground, Titan tearing the mountains asunder in an effort to expel him from the village, and being attacked in the middle of the night by his own men when he had refused to give Rydia up to them. And even through all of that, Rydia had not seen even a fraction of the fear in Cecil's eyes that she had witnessed when he stared at Rosa in her would-be deathbed, watching helplessly as she faded by the minute and whimpered his name.

Being a child, she had no way of truly comprehending what she was seeing at the time, but somewhere deep inside the recesses of her heart, she had made the connection that was watching a man in love crumble before her eyes – like a tragic version of the prince in the fairytales her mother always read to her.

 _That Cecil is still here…he has to be…this all has to be a terrible misunderstanding…_

They made their way to the house, Rydia's hand only hesitating for a moment before rapping her knuckles against the wooden door. She could practically see her child-self standing before her, pounding her fists insistently on the bottom panel of the door, which was all she had been able to reach as a little girl.

It swung open, and they were greeted by a woman that Rydia didn't recognize. She winced as the shriek of the sylphs invaded her eardrums, but offered Rydia a tired smile.

"Can I help you, dear?"

"We were told you are taking care of some…travelers that might have fallen ill."

"Oh," the woman blinked. "Yes, that's right. A man and a girl – he carried the poor thing all the way here and collapsed at the village gates," she crossed her arms over her chest. "Seems to be happening a lot as of late…must be the rowdiness that comes every year with the Flower Festival. Anyway, do you know them?"

Rydia realized that she hadn't quite thought through just exactly what would happen if it _was_ the mysterious girl and one of her minions holed up inside, and felt her legs wobble in consternation.

"…Yes," Edge intervened when she hesitated to answer. She glared up at him, but said nothing. "We're here to take them off your hands."

 _Edge!_ Rydia wanted to scream. _Are you insane? If it's the mysterious girl, do you really think she'll just let us waltz out of here without blowing up the entire house? We've got to get these people out of here…!_

Golbez watched the panic bloom across Rydia's face, and cleared his throat, thankful that his Lunarian intuition was finally kicking in when it was actually needed. He supposed seventeen years of not using it made you a little rusty.

"I hate to intrude, but I lost something at the oasis," Golbez said, "Is your husband home to help me look for it? It would go faster if there were two sets of eyes searching while these three attend to our…um, friends."

Luca and Edge shot the man in black a confused stare, but Rydia's eyes widened in hopefulness. The woman tucked a lock of stray hair behind her ear. "My husband isn't home right now – he's helping a friend board up one of their windows that shattered in the storm. Could I help you instead? Then I won't be in the way." She turned to Edge, frowning. "Your friend is rather large…are the three of you going to be enough to carry him _and_ the girl out?"

 _Large?!_ Rydia blanched. _Oh gods…it really could be Kain. He was as tall as a tree._ She wasn't sure what she would do if she actually came face-to-face with the scoundrel, especially after seeing what he had done to poor Porom – but she was pretty sure she had narrowed her options down to either crying or running for her life.

Edge assured her that they would be fine, and she and the man in black left for the oasis. As soon as they were out of earshot, Rydia whirled around, her face red.

"Thank god he had the foresight to realize that if our enemy is upstairs that these poor people might be in danger!"

"Hey!" Edge held up his hands. "If you wanted to be the sole black mage in this fight, I have no issues with that. I've been trying to get rid of him this whole time anyway."

"Idiot!" Rydia hissed, stomping inside the house. " _Think_ before you speak next time!"

"You guys…!" Luca winced as she followed them up the stairs. "You're getting ahead of yourselves…we don't even know who's up there – or if they are awake!"

Going off of her memory from her last visit to the house with Cecil, Rydia turned down a narrow hallway and pushed open a door that had been left ajar. Two beds were pressed against the northern wall, both filled with people-sized lumps that were covered in blankets. Upon stepping inside, Rydia realized the room was freezing – without the light of the sun, the deserts that surrounded Kaipo had quickly submerged into the same temperatures you would have during a Baronian winter.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Rydia cautiously approached the first bed, a cluster of sylphs clawing at the nearby window with their pointed nails sending an involuntary chill down her spine. As she gently pulled back the sheets, she felt her heart drop into her stomach and the blood rush from all her limbs straight into her head.

 _"Yang!"_

Yang, his blonde braid splayed over the pillows and sheets beneath him, and his face white as snow, stirred only slightly when Rydia removed his coverings, his blue lips cracking as he whispered.

"Ur...sula..."

Luca turned to the other bed, only the slightest hint of a blonde curl poking out of the side as she tugged the sheets down and revealed Princess Ursula of Fabul, one half of her pigtailed hair still held together by a fraying ribbon, the other exploding off the side of her head in a riot of curls. Although her clothes were tattered and water-stained, a beautiful silk rose headband remained firmly planted on her head, although a few of the petals were missing. Like Yang, she had no reaction to Luca's unveiling – her skin the same ghastly white as his with dark bruises set under both her eyes.

"So it was these two all along," Rydia murmured, her eyes watering with tears of relief. "They must have never made it to Baron…" She felt Edge's hand brush over her hip, and nearly whirled around to smack him in the face, wondering what the hell he could be thinking at a delicate time like this. He jumped back quickly, revealing the frying pan Sheila had gifted them that he had untied from her waist. Rydia's mouth opened to protest, but she couldn't find her words as Edge lifted the pan high in the air.

"Hope this does the trick," Edge grinned, and Luca looked up from Ursula's still form, letting out a gasp that sucked all of the air out of the room.

" _Wh-whoa!_ What are you...?"

Rydia covered her eyes as the frying pan crashed upon Yang's shiny head, and Luca let out a strangled scream somewhere in the distance. Edge let the pan clatter to the floor, a low moan drifting out of Yang as Rydia heard the bed shift beneath his weight.

"Ngh...Mmph... Come on, Sheila, let me sleep a little longer..."

Rydia peeked between her fingers, watching incredulously as Yang's eyes fluttered open. She threw her arms around him before she could stop herself, sobbing into his broad, freshly-shaved chest as he tried to stifle the urge to wince under the slip of a girl. "Yang! My god, I can't believe you're really here!"

"This is just ludicrous..." Luca seethed, and Edge laughed nervously.

"Sorry, Luca…it was one of those things better left unexplained. You would have stopped me if you had known what was happening, right?"

"OF COURSE!" Luca shrieked. "Because YOU'RE INSANE!"

"Rydia! Edge!" Yang exclaimed, patting Rydia on the shoulder so that she would get off of him – it felt like she weighed a thousand pounds when she clung to his ruptured muscles. He spotted Luca glaring at the two of them, and smiled. "And Luca too!"

"You and Sheila are quite the couple, you know that?" Edge shook his head, kicking the frying pan across the floor so that Yang could see it from the bed. "I bet I could learn a lot of tricks from you two."

The connotation of Edge's "compliment" flew right over Yang's head as he briefly eyed the frying pan. He then immediately snapped upward in bed, like he had been yanked up by a puppeteer's strings. "Ursula! Where's Ursula!? The last thing I remember is pulling her out of the ocean…"

"Don't worry. She's right next to you," Rydia said gently, and Yang grasped Rydia's hand.

"Do not fret over me! You _need_ to wake up Ursula!"

Rydia and Edge turned toward the other bed, where Luca was waiting dutifully. Rydia gently ran her hand over Ursula's cold cheek, a fresh wave of tears rushing to her eyes as the girl's clammy skin decompressed beneath her fingers. She didn't look like a tenacious maiden on the brink of sixteen – more like a corpse that had been left to blight in a shallow pond.

"Ursula!"

"This is Yang's daughter?" Edge tilted his head. "She's really grown up."

Rydia sank to her knees next to Ursula's bed, shaking her head. She was so distraught that she didn't even hear Edge's comment – under normal circumstances, something like that would have earned him a beating. "She looks so pale and gaunt. Something must be done...and fast. What happened to you guys?"

"Our ship was attacked!" Yang cried, throwing the rest of his covers off and attempting to swing his legs over the side of the bed. "By…Erg…!"

Rydia lowered her head. He didn't need to finish…she knew exactly what he was going to say next – it had happened seventeen years ago, too. "Don't overexert yourself, Yang."

"Mmmm…" Ursula mumbled into her pillow, her eyeballs darting erratically beneath the thin, stretched flesh of her pale pink lids.

"She's moving!" Luca looked to Edge and Rydia, scrunching up her nose. "Does this mean you have to…?"

Edge scratched his head, the color draining from his face. "Hey, Rydia, can you help me deal with this? I don't have the nerve to hit a lady…" _There's also the small detail of having her hulk of a father within striking distance of my neck._

"Really? _That's_ where you draw the line in your debauchery?" Rydia muttered, but as she did so, her fingers deftly untied the ladle hanging at her hip. Still kneeling at Ursula's side, Rydia clutched the ladle shakily, her mouth feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton balls. She reached out with her free hand, gently removing Ursula's pretty headband and resting it on her torso before she brought the ladle into the air.

 _"CRACK!"_

Rydia's scream died in her throat, closing her eyes just before the sickening sound of metal meeting skull rang out. Luca and Edge both clenched their eyes shut, and Yang anxiously perched at the side of his bed. A few seconds later, Ursula woke up, her lips twisting as she stared dizzily up at the ceiling. "Mm... Oh, Mother...is Father out training again?"

"Ursula!" Yang gasped, and Rydia scrambled out of the way just in time for Yang to launch himself off of the bed and come crashing over. Ursula grasped the misplaced headband in her fingers, smiling crookedly as she turned to face him.

"Father...I'm so glad you're alright. I knew you would be, though! The Lord of the Seas has nothing on you."

"A mother's love triumphs over all, huh?" Edge grinned, and Luca shook her head.

"What the heck is up with this family? You're all barbarians – and I'm the one who grew up with an axe instead of a rattle!"

Nobody replied to Luca's sarcasm – the room had fallen into a comfortable silence as everyone quietly reveled in the small victory of friends surviving to face another day. Rydia lifted her head, realizing that the ear-splitting scratching at the windows had also stopped.

A glimmer of light erupted over Yang's shoulder, and a sylph manifested before them, daintily perching herself between Yang and Ursula. Another sylph fluttered next to Ursula's bed, gingerly picking up her headband and nestling it down into her curls as Ursula turned to gaze up at her, eyes wide.

"The Sylphs!" Yang exclaimed. "But you look different from before in the crater…you look whole again."

"Yang..." the sylph perched on his shoulder reached over, running her hand down the curve of his jaw. Her hand was so tiny that it felt like the brush of a feather. "You were willing to risk your life for the sake of your child. As much as it pains me to say it, you are a far stronger man than any of us fae."

"We've always thought of humans as weak, and that was why they needed the power of the eidolons," the sylph floating next to Ursula said. "A covenant we felt was foolish, and would be the downfall of our plane of existence. But you faced the King of the Eidolons himself with not a mote of fear, all so that you could save your daughter's life – with no one's strength but your own."

"You...!" Rydia gasped, and the sylph next to Yang wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her rosy cheek to his skin.

"Thanks to you, we have finally returned to normal – that girl holds no sway over us any longer. For now, both of you must rest. We will gladly lend you our powers while you grow strong again."

"Thank you, my Sylphs!" Yang beamed, and she turned and fluttered to Rydia, extending her tiny hand. Rydia reached out with one finger, brushing the fairy's palm.

"Rydia – forgive us for not heeding your call as agreed upon seventeen years prior. Before the madness took us, we had a fearful premonition that Yang and the crystals were in danger. But we were too late – we used the last of our will to cross the astral plane, and found ourselves chained to darkness. I could see you when you when you spoke to my petrified form in the underworld, and again in Fabul – but I couldn't understand a word you said. All I could feel was unrelenting fear that infused with every fiber of my being – multiplied for each of my sisters in chains as well."

"That was what I felt too," Rydia replied. "I heard your cries, but it was like they were in a foreign language. I could feel your fear and despair – it's the same as the other eidolons I've rescued. Is that why they cannot recognize me?"

"Their souls are chained in a well of darkness, Rydia," the sylph frowned. "There is no light when they look toward the heavens. You must be their light if you are to save them – and your friends!"

Before Rydia could ask them anymore, the two sylphs disappeared in a flicker of glittering green sparks, fading into the aether. Rydia sat back on her heels, her heart hammering in her chest as she tried to digest what had just happened. Edge gave Yang a slap on the back, which nearly knocked the weakened monk to the floor. "You've got fans in high places, don't you, Yang?"

Yang chuckled to himself, grasping onto Edge's arm to pull himself up.

"It's been only by the blessing of my friends that I am where I stand now. For that, I thank all of you…"

"Um, me too, of course," Ursula flushed. "I'm eternally grateful for everything you've done for my family."

Rydia stood up, resting her hands on her hips. "So this malaise has even reached the Eidolon King himself...I suppose it was inevitable – I saw him turned to stone right before my eyes, after all." She sighed, biting down on her lip. "The defiance I displayed in our last moments together – will he really respond to anything I say if I can find him again?"

"Rydia..." Luca frowned. Edge gave her hair a tug, and she spun around to face him, glaring.

"Come on, Rydia. Your bonds with the Eidolons aren't gonna lose to something like this, are they?"

Rydia softened her glare, reaching up to force away the tears that were threatening to spring. "...You're right. I _will_ bring them all back!"

Yang cleared his throat. "So is it my understanding that you are headed to Baron as well?"

"Yes," Rydia nodded. "We spoke to Sheila before coming here – we know what happened in Fabul. We too, have business with Cecil…"

"Unfortunately, Baron Castle is protected by the same glow we saw covering the Tower of Babil," Edge sighed. "All of the crystals are in Baron's hands now…they are probably what are generating the shield." Yang raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Rydia smacked her fist into her palm.

"Regardless, we will find a way. If we can combine the Eidolons' powers with ours, anything is possible. We'll find Titan in Agart, and bring him back to us. Odin, Asura, Leviathan, Bahamut, and my mother's dragon – we'll track them down, too!"

"Let's get moving, then," Yang nodded, taking a limping step forward. "You can catch me up on everything that has transpired on the way to Agart, and I will help prepare for our battle with Titan."

"Father!" Ursula protested, shakily climbing out of the bed. Luca swooped in to help her, bending down so that Ursula could use her shoulders as a crutch. "You're in deplorable condition! How do you expect to be of any help!?"

 _Whoa!_ Rydia felt her lips tug into the tiniest of smiles. _Ursula really is her father's daughter…and she's matured so much since I last saw her!_

Edge nodded. "I'm afraid Ursula is right, Yang. You're not going to fight with us."

Yang's face fell, his mustache drooping like a battered umbrella. "What?"

"You need to recover first. You've got a wife and daughter relying on you," Edge nodded to Ursula, who lifted her chin and hoisted herself taller with Luca's help. "Remember that?"

"Yes... You are right about that," Yang sighed, gazing at Ursula. "There are no words to express my regret! Just when my kingdom needs me the most…"

"It will be OK," Ursula offered. "I will rest as long as it takes so that I might join you and fight alongside everyone! And if there is any other way I can be of assistance, just let me know!" Yang beamed, giving her a subtle nod.

"Let's get you to the Falcon so we can make our preparations to depart," Luca smiled. "Rydia, maybe you should go grab our friend and let him know we're ready to leave."

"Oh dear, I forgot all about him," Rydia frowned. "He must have done very well at being a distraction."

"What do you mean?" Ursula blinked, and Edge shook his head.

"We'll explain everything on the way to the Falcon. It's a really long story…I'm sure you have some tales of your own for us as well."

* * *

Golbez stared down at the pair of graves wordlessly, clutching his arms to fight off the chill of the stalled desert air that drifted lifelessly over the oasis banks. He had read the names on the markers over and over to the point where they had lost all meaning – just a jumble of letters that were collected together and etched over a sprawling epitaph.

His fears of returning to the Blue Planet had been confirmed many times over in the small space of the past few days, but he was only now realizing that he had foolishly only been focused on potential conflict and confrontations with the living – Cecil, Edge, Rydia, Rosa, for starters – and new faces that would be bound to hate him by instinct, like his nephew. He hadn't had the good sense to fear the non-sentient confrontations he would encounter as well – returning to the scenes of past transgressions, like Damcyan, had shaken him to his core – he could barely comprehend how he had managed to function for the agonizing short time they were there. Thank goodness for small distractions, like him becoming target fodder for Harley's goons.

But he hadn't realized that the oasis gardens had become a makeshift graveyard when he had made the off-the-cuff suggestion to search for his imaginary lost article to get that woman out of her own house. When his eyes had first fallen over Tellah and Anna's graves, it had taken every ounce of his self-control not to keel over in shock. But he must have flinched, or shuddered noticeably – when the woman asked him what was wrong, he quickly lied and said he had gotten pricked by an errant orchid cactus.

When they had scoured every inch of the gardens, and the roof still had not exploded off the top of her house, Golbez figured it was time to let go of the ruse. He thanked her for coming out, and she left to find her husband. He had been so enraptured by the presence of the unexpected graves that he had not noticed the cries of the sylphs had ceased to fill the air.

 _Tellah…there were many men that were lost to the throes of my rage during that damnable war…but it's always your face that haunts my darkest nightmares – the look in yours and Cecil's eyes that night in the Tower of Zot will undoubtedly be the last thing I see before I follow you to the beyond…_

 _Piercing blue hatred – the crystals themselves manifest…_

"Anna…Tellah…."

Golbez stiffened as Rydia's voice whispered behind him. His eyes remained trained on the graves as Rydia joined his side, her hands folded in prayer. He lowered his head so that his hair would fall over his eyes, shutting her out.

"Once again, the world is facing a chaotic maelstrom of war and violence… Now, more than ever, I hope we may receive your loving protection… And I hope you are there for Edward, too, wherever he may be." She bowed her head, a tear sliding down her cheek.

A flicker of pale light danced over the oasis, despite the sun having disappeared behind the moon. Golbez swore that he could see the reflection of two pearlescent figures staring up at him from the water – an elderly man with untamable white hair and sloping glasses and a young girl in a goldenrod gown, her eyes shining with love. The old man nodded at him, and a ripple erupted in the center of the oasis, dashing their forms into stardust. Golbez clenched his fist so hard that his fingernails cut into his palm, his throat tightening.

 _I'm sorry…Because of me, you and your daughter were forced to leave this planet far too soon…_

"I'm sorry," Rydia suddenly said. He jumped at the unexpected synchronicity of his thoughts and her words, and caught a flash of his father's eyes reflected back in her gaze.

 _No…not Kluya's…mine…!_

He still had not gotten use to seeing royal violet in the mirror instead of the malevolent amber that had stained his irises under that infernal, darkened shroud…

"What is there to be sorry for?" Golbez asked quietly, and she shook her head.

"I grow weary of my own tears. I can't imagine what anyone else must think of them. You've been very kind to help us as long as you have…"

 _Don't ask me any questions,_ Golbez mentally pleaded. _Not now. Not when we're so close to finding Cecil. Let me use you for just a little while longer – at least until I can see him again and truly come to know his fate in all this. After that, you can do with me what you will._

Rydia shook her head, like she was talking herself out of something, and finally sighed. "You're coming with us to Agart, right? The travelers in the house – they were old friends of ours. They're joining us, but they're far too weak to fight. I need all the help I can get with Titan…it seemed fairly easy for you to subdue him the last time."

"Oh," Golbez blinked. _So you still have use of me as well – that's a fair exchange._ "Yes, of course I'm coming. If our business here is done, let us proceed."

Rydia turned and started to walk away, Golbez following close behind. As they drifted through the ghostly, silent streets, Rydia bowed her head, her voice barely audible even in the stillness.

"I don't think I ever asked – why did you come to my rescue in Agart?"

He absentmindedly fingered the prayer beads hanging from his wrist, trying to distract himself in an effort to control the tone of his voice.

"It was something that needed to be done."

A simple, _truthful_ answer. Rydia nodded, pressing her fingers to her lips. They walked the rest of the way back to the Falcon in complacent silence.

* * *

 _They're coming…I can feel it._

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the frosty, salt-saturated air, holding it inside of her until she felt as if a fuse had been lit in her lungs, on the brink of explosion.

She let her breath rush out, marveling that it was the only sound she could hear in what had been up until a short time ago, a village bursting with anxious energy. The cowardly townspeople had all fled for the mountains like rats abandoning a sinking ship when she had swept through to collect Titan. Ever since she had ensnared the eidolons in her trap, starting with the All-Father himself, she had been able to tap into their plane, interrupting or listening in to the flow of their ceaseless psychic impulses at her will. When she had at last made the final capture in the depths of the Feymarch, the damnable chatter that now always echoed in the back of her mind had ceased, and she reveled in the total control she had not over just the eidolons themselves, but their entire channel of existence.

But slowly now, the voices had started up once again. At first, it was just one lone old man's lamenting, and she briefly contemplated the incomprehensible notion that she had made a mistake, and left one of the eidolons freed that had managed to somehow elude her all this time. But as the hours wore on, more and more voices joined the lifestream, and when she could bring herself to listen in, she realized something even more terrifying than the notion that there had been a flaw in her carefully orchestrated execution.

 _I didn't account for the possibility that the people of the Blue Planet could possibly evolve beyond their current state of existence…not after all this time of incessant idleness._

 _No…_ _ **he**_ _didn't account for it…_

 _And now that weakling summoner intends to take them back._

 _But it's all for naught – the crystals have been gathered, and will soon be transported back to their rightful place with the interdimensional elevator. Regardless of her efforts, she will be too late – she was too late sixteen years prior…!_

She lifted her head, smirking to herself. The atmosphere had shifted – a spark of defiance was alit in the air, stinging the exposed skin of her bare feet and jutting shoulders. It made the hair on the back of her neck stick up in the most delightful way – she wondered if this was the impulse these insects called fear.

 _You should be grateful I've come all this way to meet with you one last time – I'll gift you with the depthless despair you so rightfully deserve for trying to get in our way…although I doubt your infinitesimal minds will be able to comprehend its fullest extent…!_

She turned, her amber eyes glistening like headlamps as they locked onto the fierce emerald orbs that had manifested before her.

* * *

Rydia clenched her jaw as she met the mysterious girl's gaze – even though she hadn't said a word, Rydia had the distinct impression that she was silently being mocked inside this lunatic's head. She was wearing the same bemused expression Rydia had burned into her brain before her senses had left her after being struck by the girl's frightful lightning back in the Underworld.

They had found Agart abandoned upon their arrival – and no sign of Titan, or any of his handiwork – no upended mountains, ruptured landscapes, or shattered streets. In the far distance, on the northern end of town that was marked by cascading cliffs that eventually would drop you into the ocean, Rydia had spotted a lone figure, her slender frame wrapped in a gossamer shroud that gave her the illusion of having billowing angel wings. Right away, she recognized the woman who had laid her flat in the Sealed Cave.

 _Well, now she's going to regret leaving me alive._

"Where's Titan?" Rydia hissed between grinding teeth. "And the rest of my friends, while you're at it?"

The mysterious girl shook her head, giggling. _Straight to the point, eh?_ "I should inform you that I'm done with this planet. You and the eidolons serve no purpose for me any longer."

"Maybe so, but we're not done with you," Edge snapped, grabbing her by the front of her dress and in a blinding flash, pressing a knife to her throat. Rydia took a step back, Luca and the man in black flanking her from behind. With a delicate flick of his fingers, a line of red materialized in the curve of her porcelain neck, and her lips curled into an indecipherable smile.

"You're the insect that saw it fit to run away from me rather than stay in fight in the Tower of Babil, right?"

Edge reddened, pressing the knife deeper and sending another gush of blood over the mythril blade. "You should know best that even an insect does what is needed to survive."

"If you say so," she shrugged. "Perhaps I'll try your little stunt for myself. Out of my face!" She blasted him with white orb of energy, sending him reeling backwards as she clasped her throat and did a one-handed back flip over the cliff behind her.

"What the...!" Rydia cried, her eyes widening as she froze in place. Edge climbed to his knees, cursing under his breath as he clutched the tattered remains of cloth over his chest, which had taken the brunt of her attack. Suddenly, the ground below them gave a violent shudder, sending the four of them to their knees as a massive, dirt-lined hand clawed its way over the cliffs, plunging its fingernails into the earth and tearing it asunder.

"Titan!" Rydia shrieked. Another hand joined the first over the ledge of the cliff, and Titan hauled himself up, his greasy, matted, violet hair hanging in his face in sea-sprayed chunks. Sitting on his shoulder was the mysterious girl, a smirk on her lips as she leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hands. Titan took a few hesitant, lumbering steps forward, like he was a drunk stumbling home after a long night at the pub. Rydia rushed forward to meet him, cupping her hands around her mouth. "It's me! Rydia!"

Titan stared at her blankly, and the mysterious girl let out a burst of laughter, nearly falling off his shoulder. Rydia tore the hyacinth from her tangled locks, ignoring the sting of the hair being ripped out of her scalp as she desperately lifted the ornament into the air.

"Please, you've got to wake up!" Rydia cried. Right on cue, both Edge and Golbez summoned Blitz and Thunder magic, igniting the sky with piercing light to fuel the hyacinth. As the ruby's light danced over Titan's form, the mysterious girl let out a hiss, raising her hand. A black veil of rolling smog erupted from Titan's eyes, sending the eidolon into fits as he ground at his face and stomped his feet into the ground, fracturing it beneath the party and splitting the road into gaping chasms. The hairpin was knocked out of Rydia's hands, bouncing along the buckling ground until it stopped at Titan's feet.

"It's no use now!" the mysterious girl sang. "So that's how you've been undoing my curse… _very_ interesting, I have to admit!"

"She…she blinded him with magic!" Luca shrieked. "What kind of monster ARE you?" The mysterious girl glanced at Luca, licking her lips.

"What I _am_ is beyond your comprehension."

"Titan!" Rydia cried, crawling away from the pit she had half-fallen into toward the thrashing gigas and the glimmering hyacinth. "We'll save you – just hang on…!"

 _I need something that heals blindness…fast!_ She desperately glanced back at the sprawl of the village behind her. _Maybe if one of us can break into a general store…!_

"Rydia, look out!" Edge screamed. She lifted her head just in time to see Titan's meaty fist swinging for her head. The man in black dove forward, tackling Rydia and rolling her away just as the fist slammed into the ground, sending the land into another heaving fit and shattering the hairpin into an explosion of dust. As Rydia clung to the man in black, her gaze caught a fragment of ruby flying into the air and being swallowed by a chasm, a scream ripping from her throat. "Nooooooooooooooo!"

Behind them, Luca and Edge were struggling to claw their way out of a pit, their legs kicking frantically as they were crushed against the raging plates shifting beneath them. The mysterious girl threw her head back and laughed, the gash of red from Edge's earlier threat now seeping down, ignored, into the valley between her breasts.

"Ha ha ha! You said you wanted Titan…so here he is, in all of his glory! You've been together since you were a child, right? So I think it's very fitting that he's the one that ends your little journey. Really, I couldn't have planned it better even if I had tried!"

"Titan! Please!" Rydia wailed, arching her back as she tried to escape the man in black's grasp. He held her steadfastly, knowing that she would be running to her doom if he let her go. He could hear the ground humming ominously, and knew that another earthquake was moments away from striking. He closed his eyes, bracing himself against Rydia and shielding the back of her head with his hands as she screamed into his chest.

 _"…Float!"_

Rydia's body slackened as she felt a warmth blossom between her shoulder blades and the weight of her savior lifting from her body. She opened her eyes only to see the man in black falling away from her, his eyes wide with surprise as a pair of translucent angel wings sprouted on his back. Rydia glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing as she was blinded by heavenly light and lifted off the ground as well. Edge and Luca were rescued from the pit that had nearly swallowed them, staring at each other in wonder as they were lifted to safety, their feet inches off of the trembling ground.

"...Wha!?" Rydia blinked, whirling around. The mysterious girl's jaw had dropped, and Titan was still clawing at his eyes, his frustrated howls filling the air.

Porom was standing at the perimeter of the cliff side, using her mythril staff as a crutch as she struggled to keep herself from tumbling forward. Her eyes were wild and flashing with rage, her hair still half-spilled over her heaving shoulders. As she turned to look at Rydia, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she promptly collapsed, her staff clattering to the ground.

"Porom!" Rydia cried, willing her newly-granted wings to drive her forward as she floated toward her. Luca beat her to the punch, skidding down next to Porom and pulling her into her arms.

"You can't do this! You're still too weak," Luca lectured, although the tears in her eyes were preventing her from sounding too awfully angry. Porom let out a groan in protest, her head falling back against Luca's chest.

"Sorry, Porom," Rydia whispered. "But thank you…"

"Here he comes!" Edge called, and Rydia whirled back around to face Titan, her heart pounding in her ears. He was thrashing toward them frantically, the mysterious girl back to her usual composed self as she pointed toward them and let out another peal of laughter.

 _What am I supposed to do now?_ Rydia gulped. She eyed the decimated remains of her hairpin scattered in the grass, and her stomach lurched painfully. Golbez hesitantly reached for his blade, the sound of the metal dragging over his scabbard sending a shiver down his spine.

 _If she can't find a way to awaken Titan quickly – we'll have to kill him before he destroys this entire village._

* * *

 _Baron_

"What is that monster?" Edward lifted his head from the floor, not bothering with sweeping away the sweaty clumps of hair that had fallen in his face – he could see well enough that certain doom lay before them, no need to sharpen the picture any further.

"Not a monster…an eidolon!" Rosa winced as Cecil pulled himself off of her and reached down, yanking her up by the hand and pressing his lips to her ear.

"That's correct…and I'm afraid any traitors will find themselves at the other end of Zantetsuken, his legendary blade. Odin can only be struck down by lightning…and I don't see any black mages here…do you?" Cecil let out a strained laugh, and Rosa pulled away from him, biting her lip. She cautiously lifted her palm behind her, her fingers brushing the invisible barrier to test its strength. The barrier flashed a warning yellow as shockwaves shot up her digits, and she shrieked, yanking her hand away. _Trapped!_

 _How…how can Cecil possibly summon an eidolon?_

"Kain…" Ceodore stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Kain glanced down at him in surprise, helping him to his feet. Ceodore grasped Kain's arm for balance as he regained his senses, his other hand running over his throat, where deep red marks had been imprinted from his scarf. "I could feel it – a powerful light raising me from the depths. You didn't tell me you could use white magic…"

"I didn't know I could," Kain stared at his dragon scale gauntlets, like he expected the answer to be written on them. " _That_ was magic? Another gift from the light of Mount Ordeals…?"

"A little help here, guys?" Cid grunted, a clang of steel ringing out as Odin's sword came down upon his hammer. He forced the blade away and made his counter-attack, striking Odin's horse in the neck. The horse snorted and staggered back, ghastly silver blood trailing down the twitching muscles underneath its coat. Cid took another wild swing, driving the horse back further – soon he had Odin pinned against the back wall.

Edward joined Kain and Ceodore, having finally peeled himself off of the floor. "How are we supposed to beat an eidolon? If Rydia were here…"

"I suspect if Rydia were here, it would not matter," Kain frowned. "Odin appears to bend to Cecil's will now."

Ceodore shook his head, sheathing his blade. "No…it's not my father Odin is obeying. Look." He pointed to the mysterious girl, who was now seated on Cecil's throne, idly watching the chaos unfold before her. Her cheek was pressed to her hand, and her entire body was alit in a pale, almost ethereal glow.

"Cecil is not a summoner, and neither is she. This girl…whoever she may be, is nothing but an imposter. Surely you two have been in the presence of Rydia when she has summoned an eidolon, yes? There is palpable tension that fills the air when she calls upon the powers of those elderworld gods – it's both terrible and extraordinary to behold. You can feel the magic soak into your very marrow, and for just a moment, you're elevated to her plane of existence, before being discharged back to reality." He pressed his lips together. "I don't feel any of that now. That creature is just a chained act in a circus. He's in pain…I can feel it." He rested his splayed fingers against his chest. "Even if we combine our strength, we will never beat him. Our only chance we have is to wake him up."

 _He's right_ , Kain thought. _It's been seventeen years, but everything he said is exactly how I remember feeling when I witnessed the calling of an eidolon for the first time…when Rydia summoned Titan to eject Cecil and I from Mist, and the two of them tore down an entire mountain. I had never been so sure I was going to die, yet I didn't want to close my eyes through any of it._

"Cid!" Edward cried, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Retreat!" Cid didn't have to ask if Edward was sure – he spun on his heel and made his escape before Odin could recover from the barrage of blows he had rained upon his steed. The horse was anxiously kicking in the air and thrashing its head, droplets of blood staining the heavy velvet curtains that blanketed the windows and kept them entrenched in darkness.

"Giving up already?" Cecil tilted his head. "I expected more from you at this point, Edward…are you really a king?" Ceodore could see Edward wince as Cecil's taunt hit its mark.

"Call Odin back!" Rosa demanded, shaking Cecil's arm, and the mysterious girl stifled a laugh as Cecil ignored Rosa's plea, his eyes glued to the eidolon and eagerly anticipating his next strike.

"Do you have a plan, Ceodore?" Kain asked, and Ceodore nodded, clenching his fists as Cid scurried up to them.

"We will use hallowed light to open Odin's eyes. Cid, Edward – I need you to be my cover. Kain, I need to borrow your strength – the light you received from Mount Ordeals – it should be the same as my own. If we can call upon it together, it might be enough."

"Aren't you forgetting the part where using your body as a conduit for that much power nearly kills you?" Kain asked drily, and Ceodore offered a small smile.

"You know white magic now, right? I'll make the most of that."

"W-Wait…!" Kain gasped, and Edward chuckled, despite the hopelessness of the situation laid before them.

"He really is Rosa's son, isn't he…? Stubborn as all get-out."

Cid shrugged. "Well, I don't hear anything better coming from you Kain, so we're going with Ceodore's idea!" Kain pressed his hand to his forehead, exhaling deeply.

 _Truly, so much has changed in my time away…yet even more has remained the same. A small part of me has to wonder how they managed to survive this long without a voice of reason occasionally prodding them…_

"Let's go, Kain!" Ceodore called, folding his hands and closing his eyes. Kain pushed the base of his lance against the floor, wrapping his fingers around the handle and sliding his eyes shut. He could feel the throne room quaking once more as Odin rode closer, and the jarring ring of another collision of steel.

"Cid…!" Rosa cried out, her voice now miles away.

Ceodore felt the first pulse of devastating energy reverberate through his core, allowing himself to submit to the blinding darkness that would close his senses off from the life-threatening eidolon racing toward him – he would not allow for distractions. He could feel himself sinking into a dimension of obsidian deep within his heart, pinpricks of light that served as his windows to reality shrinking to specks of dust as he plummeted down, down, down.

 _Odin…wake up. I beg of you…_ _ **this**_ _is not justice. I know, thanks to my parents, that the eidolons are beings of light, pure of heart, greater than any man, guardians of order. I know of the role you played in saving our planet seventeen years ago – of the unwavering trust you instilled in the only human in which you've entered into a true covenant – Rydia of Mist._

Another powerful shockwave rocked Ceodore, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness as miniscule vibrations danced beneath his skin, sparks of starlight coursing through his limbs. He plunged yet deeper, following a gentle voice calling his name in rhythm with the erratic beat of his heart.

 _Ceodore…Ceodore…Ceodore…Ceodore…_

 _Father…?_

His lungs began to burn with effort when he realized he could no longer will himself to draw breath. The emptiness around him had transformed into a blackened pool, columns of pearl-like orbs gurgling past as he struggled to twist himself around to swim back to the surface. He extended his hand as far as he could stretch, giving a final kick of his legs to propel himself upward as an exhalation of bubbles burst from his white lips, the last of his life-sustaining oxygen dissipating before his eyes.

From the darkness above, a hand encased in emerald dragon scales seized the prince's, a surge of crystal-tinged light inundating Ceodore's failing sight as something within his chest burst.

 _As the heir to the holy paladin, I command you to heed my prayer – AWAKEN!_

* * *

Rydia saw the man in black lifting his blade, and she stumbled toward him, shaking her head hysterically.

"No…we can't…!"

"Rydia!" Edge cried, grabbing her by the hand and yanking her backward. "We must go on the offense! It's over! If Titan makes it past us, he's going to kill Porom and Luca and then destroy the rest of Agart." Rydia snatched her hand away, clenching her jaw.

"It can't be over yet! There has to still be a way to save him…!" She looked back to the shattered ruby, her mind spinning. There was no way what remained would hold any kind of light – it had been obliterated into hundreds of sand-like particles.

 _"Rubies are supposed to symbolize deep love and courage. It's also used to banish nightmares…"_

 _Deep love and courage…that's what the man in black told me back in Mysidia…_ Rydia chewed on her lip, the pounding of heart now a roar that was drowning out even Titan's screams. _I don't need a piece of jewelry to prove my love – and I get my courage from having friends I want to protect!_ She looked up at Edge, smiling slightly as he stared back at her confusedly. _The sylphs said I need to be the eidolons' light…but how can I banish the nightmare that plagues them still?_

"I have an idea," Rydia breathed, dashing toward Titan and the crushed hyacinth. "I need you both to cover me!"

"Rydia!" Edge sighed, running after her. The man in black followed, and Luca clung to Porom tighter, shaking her head. If any of them made it out of this alive, she would personally bend over and kiss Rydia's boots.

Rydia, unbeknownst to the bizarre oaths that were taking place behind her, had quickly bent down, scooping what was left of the hairpin into hand and clenching her fingers tightly around it. Before Titan could make a swipe at her, she rolled out of the way, summoning Ifrit under her breath. A mandala of flames danced beneath her, and the fire djinn appeared as Edge and the man in black fought off Titan's attempts to crush the newcomer. Ifrit glared back at Titan in confusion, smoke curling out of his nostrils.

"Ifrit!" Rydia scrambled to her feet, extending her empty hand. "I need you to give me a boost so I can reach Titan!" In the background, she could hear the clang of Titan's fists meeting the man in black's ebony sword, and felt a trail of sweat run down her neck. "And we need to _hurry_."

He silently obliged, crawling down onto all fours so that Rydia could climb onto his shoulders. Once she had locked her knees around his chest, he stood up; his towering height combined with Rydia's diminutive form just enough to put her at eye-level with the gigas. The mysterious girl stared at Rydia wondrously, but didn't say a word. She didn't want to be the one to crush the little brat – it would be so much better if she were to die by the hands of one of her former servants instead.

"Titan!" Rydia gasped, clutching her legs tighter as she swerved a bit to maintain her balance. "Please…forgive me for this!" She lunged forward, tossing the ruby dust into his clouded glare. Titan stumbled backward as he screamed in pain; his fists flying up to his eyes once again as he inadvertently ground the gem shards deeper into his sockets. Rydia took a deep breath and launched herself off of Ifrit's shoulders, grasping onto Titan's neck and clinging on for dear life. Ifrit disappeared in a plume of smoke that made everyone on the ground choke and furiously gasp for air.

"What did you do!?" the mysterious girl shrieked, pressing her hand forward to cast a spell. Before she could complete the incantation, she was thrown backwards from Titan's shoulders by a storm of shuriken stars, followed by the deafening clang of a frying pan smacking her in the forehead. Even the man in black couldn't help but let out a silent cheer as Edge readied the ladle as well, just in case.

The mysterious girl screamed as she tumbled over the cliffs behind them, opening a teleport portal out of sight before she plunged into the sea. Rydia pushed her forehead to Titan's, blinking away her tears as she stared into his bloodied, watery eyes.

"Titan…please, wake up! I still need you…I'll always need you! Mommy wouldn't want you to be sad and lost like this…please, come back to me! Together, we can still save both our worlds…!"

Titan blinked up at Rydia, his hands gently reaching around her trembling body to provide support for her back. As his restored vision began to focus once more, he stared at her intensely, and she could feel the vibrations of his low baritone bubbling up from his throat. "…Adeline…?"

Rydia tilted her head. "Huh? No…that's Mommy. I'm _Rydia_."

 _Rydia's mom's name is Adeline?_ Edge tugged down his cowl, staring up at her. Even though he had helped commission the grave that was used in her mother's final resting place, he had never actually learned the woman's name. His source within the village had been rather nervous providing what little information he had, and had confided to Edge that no one knew Rydia's mother by her name anyway – she had always been referred to as the "motherly summoner", and that was what he had ultimately chosen to inscribe in the tribute to her legacy.

"Rydia... Rydi...a...!" Titan gasped, and Rydia nodded, a small smile breaking out on her face. Titan shook his head, lowering his gaze. "For a moment…I thought your mother had come back from the dead. You've grown so much, Rydia…you are truly her image in every way imaginable. A beautiful woman, Adeline was – I've always dreamed of the day I could see her again."

"Titan…" Rydia buried her head in his neck, letting out a low moan. "Me too…I miss her so much. There isn't a day I don't wish her to be by my side…but it was you that watched over me after she was gone. That's why I _had_ to save you – because you saved me all those years ago when Mist burned, and helped me find my way in the Feymarch after Leviathan spirited me away."

"Thank you, Rydia," Titan nodded, gingerly stroking her hair. "But…I really did hear your mother's voice, just as I was waking up. She had a message for you – she wants you to return to Mist, right away."

"Huh?" Rydia pulled away, shaking her head. "There must be some mistake…I thought I was to only return to Mist once I had restored all of the eidolons. There are so many still missing…including the king and queen."

"Her words were unmistakable," Titan said in a grave tone. "It may not have any relation to your mother's message, but…I cannot feel the presence of the king and queen in our world anymore. They are far beyond anyone's reach – even a human as powerful as yourself."

"That's impossible," Rydia sniffled. "My friend's ship was recently capsized…"

"I have delivered Adeline's message," Titan replied gently, setting Rydia down and bowing his head. "What you do with it is entirely up to you, dear. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and the depths of space, if it comes down to it." In a flash of light, he disappeared, leaving in his wake the shattered cliff side and the hanging shadow of the moon in the horizon. Rydia absentmindedly reached up to touch the hyacinth, only remembering when her fingers tangled with her knotted hair that it was hers no longer.

 _Mommy…did I do something wrong? Why am I being called back so suddenly?_

"Ugh…" Porom shuddered and let out a series of dry, hacking coughs. Rydia's daydream shattered, she ran back to Porom and Luca, who was forcing Porom to sit up and giving her back a gentle smack to relieve her choking gasps.

"Porom!" Rydia cried, and Luca shook her head.

"This girl needs a lot of fluids and some serious medicating. Can ya'all help me get her back to the Falcon?"

"Of course," Edge nodded, bending down lifting Porom's limp body into his arms. Rydia tried to keep up with his hurried strides as they made their way back through town, reaching to take Porom's wrapped hand.

"We couldn't have done it without you, Porom. A minute longer and we would have been swallowed whole by the earth," Rydia said breathlessly, and felt just the tiniest twinge of movement as Porom's fingers brushed over the back of her hand. Edge flicked his gaze over the two of them, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"What a reckless girl..."

Rydia wondered just who exactly he was talking about, but didn't bother to ask.

* * *

 _Baron_

Ceodore's eyes snapped open as a deafening roar erupted from outside the castle – it sounded as if someone were tossing boulders on the castle's roof and turning the surrounding farmland inside out. He was face-down on the floor, the gravelly imprint of stone in his cheek an indication that he had been laying there for quite some time.

Next to him, Kain was passed out in a spill of corn silk, his hand clasped protectively over Ceodore's. Ceodore felt Kain's fingers twitch in response to Ceodore's movement – just barely – and then came the familiar stinging behind his eyes. How many times in the past few days had he cried, even though he had sworn on Biggs's grave that he would never give in to such weakness again?

 _The light…it wasn't just a dream…but how long have we been asleep?_

Cid and Edward were also knocked out, both collapsed in front of the barrier that Cecil had erected – or at least, where it had been before being blown away by the light. Rosa was slumped against Cecil's legs, her head bowed into her chest. Cecil was silently standing before them, his eyes wide and his body entirely still. His pupils had shrunk to pinholes, his lips pale periwinkle. Ragnarok was still held in his grip, but was frozen stiff, not even moving when he drew breath.

Behind him, the mysterious girl was deflated in Cecil's throne, the glow around her body vanished. She was clutching the throne's gilded arms, her knuckles bloodied and raw as she huffed for breath between clenched teeth.

And flanking Cecil's opposite side, his blade shoved into the cracked floor only inches from Ceodore and Kain's hands, was Odin. He had dismounted his horse, which was nowhere in sight – Ceodore wondered if it had been frightened away by the light. He felt the beginnings of a scream clench his throat as Odin kneeled before them, his armor screeching as he extended a hand toward Kain's face, his thumb resting on the dragoon's jaw.

"How long it has been, Kain?" Odin asked, his voice booming within his helmet. To Ceodore's shock, Kain opened his eyes, lifting them dizzily to meet Odin's crimson orbs.

"Y-Your Highness!?" Kain stammered. "How…?"

 _Cecil had once told me that His Majesty had taken on the form of an eidolon in death…could that have been Odin…?_

"That's the voice of the late king, rest his soul!"

Cid had hauled himself to his feet, his voice quivering as he pointed dumbly toward Odin. Next to him, Edward was stirring, his hand clenching the shoulder that Kain had stabbed during their encounter in Damcyan's throne room. The wound had re-opened, sending a fresh spill of blood over his garments.

Odin released Kain's face, standing back up and shaking his head slowly. "And look at what lies before me... Rosa, Ceodore, all my children of Baron. How could I possibly turn my sword against any of you?"

Ceodore bit his lip as he forced himself to stand with Odin, his spent body not happy about being forced to cooperate.

 _This man knows my name…he was the king before my father…? The one that Golbez murdered and replaced with a fake…he's an eidolon now!?_

"Your Highness!" Kain propped himself up with his arms, grimacing with the effort. "I…"

Odin glided over to Cecil, who was still immobilized, clamping one massive hand on Cecil's shoulder – it engulfed the entirety of the slender man's build. He turned back to Kain, sadness permeating his voice. "You must save Cecil...and your homeland! That is my final request of you…Kain Highwind, Commander of the Dragoons!"

Odin disappeared, the chamber erupting in a flare of firelight – each of the standing candelabras and the blown-glass chandeliers above had been replenished with flame, flooding the room with brilliance. Rosa groaned, lifting her head as she pushed her hand through her hair and gazed dizzily at Cecil's still form.

"What's happening…?"

* * *

Luca left Porom in Harley and Izayoi's capable hands as Edge raced them back to Mist, not bothering to ask Rydia if that was indeed what she had wanted to do. Rydia slumped into a free bed in the stateroom, wondering if the spinning in her head was from the exhausting battle they had just waged, or if was because reality had already stolen away the very brief joy she had elicited from saving Titan from the mysterious girl's wrath, sending her heart on another tailspin. She had been mostly ignoring the activity around her, until she felt a shadow drift over her. When she looked up, she saw Leonora, the Epopt from Troia, gazing down at her worriedly.

"Are you OK?" Leonora asked in her breathy voice, and Rydia nodded.

"Yes. Or at least, I will be. It's just been a hard couple of days…but I suppose you know all about that."

"I suppose I do," Leonora nodded, tilting her head toward the bed. "May I?"

"Oh, of course," Rydia flushed, suddenly feeling very rude for making an injured girl feel like she had to stand. Leonora plopped down next to Rydia, reaching up to adjust her miter as it flopped over her forehead. Rydia suddenly remembered the amethyst hairpin she had found at the mouth of the Lodestone Cavern, and reached into her pouch, fishing it out and holding it before Leonora.

"Would this help with keeping your miter on? Seems like a lot of hat for a little lady."

Leonora's eyes widened as she took the hairpin from Rydia's fingers, turning it over a few times. "Actually, this is mine. I had to leave it behind when Palom and I escaped with the crystal. I can't believe you found it!"

"Well that's pretty lucky!" Rydia grinned, taking the hairpin back and reaching up to fasten it into Leonora's hair, making sure the miter was set flush along with it. She sat back when she was finished, looking Leonora up and down and nodding. "There. Perfect again."

"Thank you!" Leonora smiled, pressing her palms to her cheeks. "I know it seems silly to fret over a trinket at a time like this, but I was really sad about having to leave it behind! It was a gift from my family when I was first being seriously considered for the Epopt position. It reminds me a lot of home…and why it's so important that I be here right now."

"No…I understand," Rydia shook her head. _Too well._ "Do you know what an amethyst symbolizes?" Leonora shook her head, and Rydia nodded toward the stairway that lead to the upper deck. "When you feel up to it, you should ask the man in the black cape if he knows. He told me something about one of my relics that was really interesting."

"I will do so," Leonora smiled, but leaned in, cupping her hand over her mouth. "Um…but he does scare me, quite a lot. He nearly gave me a heart attack when I laid eyes on him in the Lodestone Cavern – he kind of looks like a devil you would wake up next to when you've gone to Hell."

Rydia tried not to laugh, which felt much nicer than her one-woman brood fest, and she decided right away that she very much liked Leonora – she may have been Palom's student, and potentially a rival of Luca's for the brat's affections, but she held none of his pretentious views or attitudes.

"Well…I'll admit he is pretty intense. But he's been nothing but kind to me since we met – it's kind of weird to say out loud, but I feel really drawn to him, despite some of his more…frightening aspects."

"Like you could be in love with him?" Leonora blinked, and Rydia practically fell off the bed.

"No, no, no! Definitely nothing like that!" Rydia shook her head for emphasis. "Jeeze. I mean…more like, there's an unspoken connection. Like I know him from somewhere…somehow – my heart remembers, but my mind does not."

"Ah," Leonora nodded. "Like you're bound by fate."

"Exactly," Rydia nodded. "I don't know if it's for the better or the worst…but it is what it is."

Leonora pressed her hands together, biting her lip. "You seem a little happier now…I'm glad for it. Harley caught me up on everything while you were in Agart – I realize you have been through a lot. But I just wanted to let you know that we – Palom and I – and I'm sure Porom and the others too – appreciate everything you are doing. Although I pray this does not go on for much longer, I will be by your side as soon as my strength allows it." She shook her head. "It should have been me that assisted you with support magic in Agart…my fever was only just breaking when Porom suddenly shot out of here with no explanation." She gazed over at Porom, who was now back in bed and dead to the world. "If anything had happened to her…Palom would never forgive himself. He loves her dearly, you know…even if he doesn't act like it."

"I know," Rydia said softly, staring down at her boots. "But…to me, that is no way to love someone…ultimately, something has to give. If you were to lose someone you loved without them realizing it – wouldn't that just be the worst feeling in the world?"

"I think so, yes," Leonora pressed her lips together, not daring to look Rydia in the eyes – she had a feeling Rydia was trying to convince herself of something rather than just make idle conversation. "Especially in times like these."

The man in black suddenly appeared in the doorway, causing both women to jump a mile in the air when his voice boomed out.

"Rydia – we've landed at Mist. Whoever is coming with, get upstairs now."

Luca looked up from where she had been talking to Tsukinowa and tending to Porom – she had also been trying to casually eavesdrop on Rydia and Leonora's conversation, but that had not gone well at all – Tsukinowa talked a mile a minute and was loud as hell about it. "Fine! _Bossy._ " But the man in black had already disappeared from sight, missing her mild insult. Rydia stood up, resting her hand on Leonora's shoulder.

"Thank you for taking the time to talk. I really hope that when all of this is over, we can get to know each other better."

"I hope for that as well," Leonora smiled. "There is so much I would love to learn about the eidolons – if you're ever up to it, that is."

"Sure!" Rydia smiled back, giving a teasing wink. "Don't let Palom hear you talking like that – he'll think he has some competition with becoming a sage." She turned to leave with Luca, giving Leonora a wave before clomping up the stairs.

Leonora sat back on the bed confusedly, her eyes finding Palom's sleeping form as she pressed her fingers to her mouth. She thought back to her training in the Tower of Trials, and how distressed Palom had seemed when he had mistakenly accused her of wanting to become a sage – she still couldn't get the way his fingers felt digging into her shoulders out of her mind – like his fingerprints had branded her flesh through her clothes.

 _…Palom wants to be a sage?_

* * *

Rydia, Edge, Luca and the man in black approached the entrance to Mist once more, heavy curtains of gossamer white drifting over them as they left the meadow path and crossed into the village proper. Luca snapped her goggles up onto her forehead, cocking an eyebrow. "The mist...it was waiting for us this time."

"Mommy!" Rydia called out, feeling the condensation from the mist cling to her eyelashes as she blinked in a fruitless effort to see better. "I've returned…!"

The mist began to retreat all around them like the trough of a tidal wave, withdrawing into a spiraling galaxy of light over the pond that marked Adeline's final resting place. The shriek of a dragon reverberated into the air, and the mist burst into holy droplets of sapphire light, revealing before them the ethereal pearl-scaled dragon that had once protected Mist village – before Cecil and Kain had accidentally slain it, along with Adeline, seventeen years ago.

"My mother's dragon!" Rydia gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth. "So the mysterious girl never managed to find you…even though you were here in plain sight all along!"

A door to one of the houses suddenly flew open, and a pile of children poured out, along with a few other villagers Rydia recognized, and the village Elder himself. They ran over to Rydia in an excited stampede, the children practically climbing over themselves in their rush to give her a hug. Rydia spun around dizzily at all the smiling faces as small arms grasped at her legs and waist, her eyes wide.

"You're all still here..."

"It looks like you've freed the eidolons," the Elder nodded, and Rydia held her tongue, deciding now was not the time to get into semantics. _Not all of the eidolons, but…_

"I have, sir. But how come only my mother's dragon wasn't captured, out of all the eidolons?"

"That would be the work of these children," the Elder smiled, and the boy currently hugging Rydia grinned up at her.

"Heh heh!"

"What?" Rydia blinked. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

The Elder patted the boy's shoulder once he had pulled away from a stunned Rydia. "We villagers cannot communicate with the eidolons like you."

A man that Rydia recognized as the grumpy septuagenarian that ran the inn stepped forward. "But the power's there all the same...and these children hold it within their bodies."

One of the teenage girls that lived next door to Rydia nodded. "We have only a small fraction of your power, but we still pooled what we had to protect the village while you were away, and used the Mist Dragon's powers to conceal him from evil."

"So this was all your doing!" Rydia gasped, and another little boy nodded.

"We had a big discussion about it..."

"…And we decided we had to save your mom's dragon, at the very least. He protected our village, after all," the teenager smiled. "None of us would be here today if it wasn't for the motherly summoner's dragon…we owe _everything_ to him."

Rydia shook her head, her eyes watering. "I...I think I understand now. Thank you... Thank you, everybody! I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me…but I'm so grateful for everything you've done."

"We'll be cheering for you, Rydia," a little girl said. "So please come home again soon, OK?"

"OK," Rydia nodded, the tears spilling over her cheeks. "I'll be home as soon as everything is better – I promise!"

The children's' parents gently pulled the kids out of the way as Rydia ran toward the pond, her arms outstretched. The dragon reared its head back and cried out, another shower of dazzling holy rain sprinkling over the village. Rydia took a flying leap, landing on the dragon's back and throwing her arms around his long, serpentine neck as she closed her eyes.

"I missed you so much…thank the gods you were protected this whole time!" Rydia whimpered. The dragon turned his snout, snorting gently into Rydia's hair as he rested his maw upon the crown of her head.

 _"Rydia…"_ A gentle voice sang into her ear, drifting around her comfortingly like a blanket warmed by an open fire.

"Mommy!" Rydia sniveled, her eyes snapping open. The dragon lifted his head, staring curiously into the sky.

 _"You have done everything you can for the eidolons for now – you will have to seek darkness and starlight in order to save the others. But do not rest just yet; your friends are fighting for the eidolons_ _ **and**_ _their lives as we speak, and desperately need your help. Those eidolons you have gathered will light the path for you – you need only to ask."_

"Of course…the barrier to Baron Castle can now be shattered!" Rydia gasped. "We'll make haste for Baron right away!"

 _"You must never forget, Rydia: Just as I am always with the people of Mist, so shall I always be with you…"_

The dragon let out another cry as Adeline's voice faded away, dipping his head into the garden that surrounded her grave and gently nipping at a blossom of massive blood-red hyacinths that were exploding in riotous blooms among the other rainbow of flowers. He turned his head back to Rydia, gently dropping the severed flower in her outstretched hands, dazzling drops of his holy mist sprinkled along the petals like morning dew.

 _Thank you…!_ Rydia sniffled to herself, reaching up and carefully tucking the flower behind her ear. In a burst of glittering light, the dragon disappeared, and Rydia slowly floated back to the shore, scintillating mist guiding her body safely over the pond. When her feet touched land once more, she found Edge waiting for her a few feet away, the man in black and Luca hanging back at the village entrance among the townspeople. He extended his hand toward her, a small, but kind, smile set on his lips. He knew how painful this next part was going to be – how much everyone on the Falcon had been dreading this next confrontation as equally as they had been anticipating it.

"Ready to go, Rydia?"

Rydia laced her fingers with his, pushing up on her tiptoes so she could gaze directly into his eyes, if only for a few precious stolen moments. She had never noticed it until now, but was startled to realize that in the light of that dreaded moon, Edge's eyes were the same color as the holy mist Adeline's dragon had rained upon her flower. Reveling in the quiet joy this brought her, Rydia squeezed his hand once, her eyes alit with the first throes of true happiness she had felt in days.

"Absolutely! Now, off to Cecil's castle!"

Edge nodded, and they simultaneously dropped hands, Edge turning to lead them back to the village gates. As Rydia drifted behind him, she turned one last time to say good-bye to her mother's grave, her heart hammering against her breast as she pressed the fingers that had been entwined with Edge's to her lips.

 _I took one route…and you took another…the wind at our backs. But now our paths have converged once again…_

 _Are we too bound by fate? Or am I just taking another detour?_

* * *

 _Baron_

Cecil took a hesitant step forward, like he wasn't quite sure where to go, his breathing haggard as the panic began to settle into his glassy, vacant stare that seemed to burn right through Ceodore. Rosa backed away from him on her hands and knees, her lower lip trembling as he towered unsteadily over her, drowning her in his shadow. Ceodore spun around to see what his father could possibly be staring at, but there was no one else there other than Kain and himself. Cecil lifted one hand to his lips, still ice-blue, releasing an ear-splitting scream into his fingers as he sank to his knees.

"Why? _Why, my lord!?_ "

And with that, his eyes rolled in the back of his head, a final scream tearing from his throat before he tumbled forward, Ragnarok shattering into hundreds of glittering shards as it slipped from his grip and crashed to the floor next to him. Rosa's eyes widened as she took in his collapsed form and the fractured remains of his holy sword, cupping her hands over her mouth before releasing a scream of her own.

"Cecil! _Nooooooooooooo!_ "

The mysterious girl's eyebrows shot up, her nose crinkling in disgust as she climbed to her feet on Cecil's throne.

 _No matter…you fools will all soon realize that what just transpired here was pointless._


	32. Act Thirty-Two: The Paladin's Tale

Act Thirty-Two: The Paladin's Tale | The New Moon

It seemed that Rydia had looked away from the rapidly-shrinking Misty Valley for only a moment when the first meteor crashed into the Falcon.

"Ahhhh!" She tumbled painfully onto her rear, shielding her face with her arms just in time before a shower of splintered wood buried her. A shriek rang out from the bow, where Luca was cutting the wheel with so much intensity that she had to dig her heels into the knots of the deck to keep her balance.

"What happened!?" Edge and Harley bolted upstairs, and Rydia struggled back to her feet, wincing as she brushed the debris off her chest.

"I don't know," she groaned, running her fingers through her hair to shake out the last of the dust. "I'll be OK…nothing broken."

Another shudder ripped through the ship, sending Rydia careening into Harley's arms as Edge grabbed onto a nearby mast. Luca shifted into a higher gear, the engines roaring to life as the Falcon shot forward and steadily dipped down, a sea of blurring green rushing to meet them.

"It's another meteor storm – and it seems to be hanging directly over Baron!" She slid her goggles over her face, sucking in a large gulp of air between her teeth. "I'm not going to be able to get us much closer without pulverizing the Falcon – time for an emergency landing!"

A shrill whine broke out above them, Rydia, Edge and Harley all staring up in unison as a flaming mass of ebony and bruised plum cut across the draping shadow of the moon and shot straight for Baron Castle. The red shield around the castle pulsed threateningly, and the meteor shattered upon impact, a deluge of rock and stardust crackling in the air like dying fireworks.

"Holy hell!" Edge muttered. "Someone up there is pissed. It's like they _know_ we're coming."

"What's going to happen if we neutralize the shield?" Harley frowned. "Will the people inside get hurt…?"

"We'll figure out _something_ ," Rydia shook her head. "I'm not going to let anything happen to our friends – not when we've come this far!"

The Falcon came to a shaky landing, Luca sliding them as close as she could manage to a small forest in the west so that the trees offered some semblance of protection in case the storm veered in a new direction. As she rushed to kill the engines and summon Calca and Brina to help investigate the damage done to the mast that had been struck, the man in black approached the deck, raising his eyebrows as he took in the darkened skies and flaming chaos that had overtaken their destination.

"…What's the plan?"

"I will call the eidolons when we get to the castle gates," Rydia explained. "That way, the shield will protect the castle for as long as possible. Harley, when you went to see Cecil, where was he holding court?"

"The throne room," Harley replied. "The rest of the castle had been empty save for some mindless guards – and it was really late when we arrived. I have a feeling he hasn't been getting out much."

"…Then we head straight for the throne room," Rydia sighed. "And hopefully, the crystals will be there waiting for us."

"I'm coming with you," the man in black said, and when Rydia opened her mouth to protest, he lifted one warning finger. "No arguments."

"Y-You don't have to do this," Rydia stammered. "If things turn bad…it's a fight we'll have to take on for ourselves. Cecil is _our_ friend – I can't ask you to get in the middle of something so horrible. You've done quite enough as it is."

 _He may be your friend, but he's my blood._ "It's far too late for such sentiments," Golbez shrugged. "If that girl is in there, you're going to need all the firepower you can get – or have you already forgotten what happened in Agart?"

"…He's right," Edge muttered, and Rydia's mouth fell open. _Wait, Edge actually WANTS him to come?_ Edge met her gaze, his eyes creased with grief, and she felt a trickle of ice water seep into her stomach. _Oh, gods…he's preparing for the worst – he really thinks Cecil is going to fight us…!_

"I'm coming too!" Luca bounded over to them, tugging her visor down over her forehead. "I have to find Master Cid – I just know he's gotta be inside."

"I already know what you're going to say," Harley frowned as she caught Edge peering at her from the corner of his eye. "That it's too dangerous for me to tag along. But you have to promise – if King Edward is inside, you'll do everything you can to bring him back safely!"

"We will, Harley," Rydia grabbed her hands, squeezing gingerly. "You have my word."

"Very well," Harley nodded, tugging her arms back – she didn't do very well with most public displays of affection, no matter how benign, and no matter the gender. "But you can't just go waltzing up to Cecil's front door while that storm is raging – that's practically suicide. Let me fetch Porom and Leonora so that we can send you in at least somewhat protected."

"I didn't even think of that," Edge smiled slightly as Harley turned and ran back into the hull. "Good thing at least _one_ of us is thinking rationally."

After Porom and Leonora tag-teamed blessing the party with Protect, Shell and Blink white magic, Edge issued his final instructions – if at any point they appeared to be in harm's way, Harley or one of the Eblan Four were to take control of the Falcon and make a break for it, regardless of whether or not they had made it back. He was grateful that despite Porom and Leonora becoming visibly upset at this edict and demanding to go along, Harley managed to calm them down enough by invoking the two girls' greatest weakness – Palom.

"Don't you dare think that you're going to leave me alone with that holy terror," she threatened, and both girls stole a cautious glance at each other before shutting up. The twinge of pink that had lit up Leonora's face did not escape Luca, and Rydia was fairly sure she heard a low growl from over her shoulder.

During their hurried journey to the castle by foot, the disarray in the village caused by the meteor storm could be heard even from the meadowlands. The road they would have taken to return to the village was now scarred by gaping craters, swirls of purple haze and a film of dusty granules hanging in the stalled atmosphere. Shouts of confusion and the popping of emergency flares meshed into a chorus of terror, a crash of crumbling brick erupting in the distance. Rydia bit her lip, forcing her legs to carry on even when she caught the unmistakable whiff of smoke burning through her nostrils.

 _Baron will surely self-destruct if Cecil doesn't come to his senses…!_

They skidded to a stop at the castle gates, Rydia narrowing her eyes as she took in the unrelenting shield that continued to mock them. The meteor storm had done nothing to weaken it – in fact, it looked more dangerous than ever with its ominous, fluctuating transformation between blood red and deep crimson each time a new meteor struck. She took a few hesitant steps back as she raised her hand high in the air, her lip quivering as she shouted into the maelstrom churning before them.

 _I hope this works…Mommy, please be right!_

"Eidolons, heed my call! Disable the magic that guards Baron Castle so that I may save our friends!"

A whirling disc of glittering blue light blossomed above the castle like the parting petals of a lotus, a pinprick of light darting in frenzy as it etched a complex weaving of spinning magic circles and orbiting stars and moons. Rydia's aura took on a golden sheen as the first shining orb arose in the sky to the north, Titan emerging with an earthshaking roar as he banged his fists against his chest. Fissures burst open in the barrier as Luca, Edge and Golbez grabbed onto each other to keep from keeling over. Rydia closed her eyes and clasped her hands, her brows knit in such deep concentration that even the earth trembling beneath her feet could not disturb her. Next, to the east, a cascade of lightning came crashing into the barrier, igniting it with crackling white light as Ramuh's staff vaulted down from the heavens, impaling itself into the barrier. He descended to Baron in a triumph of storm wind and thunder, extending his hand and calling his staff back to him.

To the west, Shiva flitted about in a snow dance, her lithe limbs becoming blurs of crystalline ice while diamond dust rained upon them, seeping into the cracks torn open by Titan. The others watched in wonder as the diamond dust began to harden and grow, an ear-piercing shriek reverberating as chunks of the barrier began to break away and collapse inward. A southerly twister of flame crashed into the crumbling dome inches from Rydia's body, Ifrit bursting from its core and throwing his head back, the cyclone exploding and eating away at the pulsing red light until nothing remained. After the rush of scorching gales had blown past them and all fell silent once more, Edge cautiously opened one eye, not realizing they had been clenched shut, and gasped.

"The glow..."

Rydia slowly opened her eyes, her voice disjointed and echoing as the aura continued to radiate around her. "It's disappeared!"

The four eidolons disappeared in a burst of yellow and green crystal orbs, leaving the castle vulnerable to the meteor storm. Just as another family of meteors sailed for the keep, a flare of silver mist came rushing over the castle like the high tide, the strangled cry of a dragon rolling over the meadowlands.

"The mist dragon!" Rydia whispered. "He's protecting the castle from the storm!"

"And we'll help the villagers!"

Rydia whirled around, only to find herself surrounded by a group of tittering sylphs, their wings fluttering with the same intensity of a hummingbird's heartbeat.

"Sylphs! You've come too…?"

"Of course," the leader nodded, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. "We had a covenant, after all – one we don't intend to break again. We could sense the agony in your heart – we will aid the villagers in your place while you save Cecil."

" _Save_ Cecil?" Rydia blinked. "Cecil's in danger!?"

"It may already be too late," the sylph frowned, shaking her head. "We waste time by talking. Go now, and our tribe will protect the village from the storm."

"Thank you!" Rydia cried, bowing her head. The aura around her body faded away, restoring her back to her normal emerald-clad self. The sylphs flew overhead, disappearing in the blink of an eye. Luca gingerly pressed her hand into the billowing mist that now draped over the castle, shivering as the icy tendrils of moisture danced over her skin.

"I hope this isn't a trap…"

Golbez pushed past her, wrenching open the castle doors and blinking as his eyes adjusted to the overwhelming darkness that welcomed them. It was beyond just every light being extinguished, and the absence of sunlight that would normally be pouring through the gilded floor-to-ceiling windows. It was the chilling, soul-stealing darkness of death and decay…something he had become quite familiar with in his first thirty years of life.

 _Brother, where are you? Why can I no longer feel your light…?_

"Let's go," Golbez grunted, and plunged inside, his cape snapping in place behind him like a soldier's salute.

"H-hey! Hold it!" Edge gaped dumbly, running after him. Rydia and Luca looked at each other and nodded, their hands coming together and squeezing reassuringly as they followed Edge and the man in black. Stepping into the great hall, Rydia felt a sudden spasm rip through her body, her pupils shrinking to pinholes despite the penetrating darkness. An outpouring of heat surged through her chest – it was the same mysterious sensation she felt when Ramuh, Shiva, Ifrit and Titan had returned to her – a transfusion of mana that ignited her veins and made her blood simmer beneath her flesh.

"Rydia?!" Luca gasped, realizing that her hand was now slick with sweat from Rydia's palm. Rydia blinked, closing her fingers over her breast as she tried to focus on the distant echo resounding in her ear – a knightly baritone was calling her name, getting farther away with each subsequent beat of her heart.

 _Odin?!_

"I…" Rydia swallowed, and her throat felt like she drank a glass of sand. "…I think another eidolon has returned to me…!"

"What?" Luca bit her lip. "But how?"

"I don't know," Rydia whispered. "It wasn't me. Somewhere in Baron…a powerful light blew away Odin's nightmare."

"Maybe Cecil?"

"…I don't think so. I know Cecil's aura…this one is foreign, yet deeply familiar…" Her eyes caught the back of the man in black's head just as he disappeared through another set of doors, and her heart twisted torturously.

 _The same aura I sense from him…! How!?_

* * *

Kain's vision faded to white as he watched his best friend's broken form bounce down the short flight of stairs from his throne, his limbs twisting eerily like a marionette's strings that had been cut. Next to him, Ceodore was shaking; his hands cupped over his face as tears poured down his cheeks.

"My prayer…did my light do that to Father…? Did I kill…?"

"No!" Kain shook his head hurriedly, although he couldn't be sure if he was directing his comment to Ceodore, or still in total denial of what had just occurred. His lance disappeared in a flash of light, materializing on the holster fastened to his back as he ran to Cecil and knelt down next to him, hoisting his body into his arms. Shards from Ragnarok's shattered crystal blade crunched beneath his knees, muting Kain's strangled cry. Cecil felt feather-light as Kain lifted him, despite his layers of armor – like he was totally hollow inside. Pushing a spill of hair out of the king's eyes, he could see that Cecil's closed eyelids were pale pink; his lips stained an oxygen-deprived blue.

 _Cecil…I was too late…I'm so, so sorry…why did I have to be such a fool and stay away so long?_

Rosa crawled over to them, resting her head on Cecil's chest as she closed her eyes and held her breath. After a few long beats, her eyes snapped back open, and she took hold of his hand, pressing it to her lips and trying not to openly shudder at how cold he felt against her mouth. It was hard for her to reconcile that only days ago his mouth upon hers had breathed life into her very body and soul, just as it had ever since their first kiss as naïve children.

"…He's breathing…he's still alive…!"

 _Thank the gods,_ Ceodore thought, a rush of air escaping his lungs as his tensing legs suddenly gave in under their own strain and turned to jelly. Cid and Edward lowered their heads in relief, Cid's fingers slipping clumsily as he dropped his hammer, the loud clang of it hitting the floor ignored by all. Ceodore watched wordlessly as his mother tried every Cure and Raise spell known to man, all with no result as she got progressively more erratic with her efforts. _Father, why won't you wake up?_

The sound of doors slamming open rang out behind them, making Ceodore leap a foot into the air. A dark-skinned man he had never seen before in a black cape and kilt was barreling through, his filthy bare feet slapping on the stone floor and dark silver hair flying behind him like a battle standard. Ceodore also couldn't help but notice the massive black steel blade hanging from his shoulder – flashes of the nightmare he had had when his airship had crashed came rushing back to him, alarm bells clanging dizzily in his head.

 _The man drenched in darkness from my dream…! Could it be…?_

But Ceodore was frozen in place – he couldn't even part his trembling lips to speak. Rosa, Kain, Cid and Edward didn't seem to know this man either – they were staring wide-eyed as he made a beeline for Cecil, and Ceodore could see Kain's fingers pressing protectively into his father's arm. The mysterious girl lingered in the background like a forgotten wraith, slightly levitating over Cecil's throne as she watched with muted bemusement.

The man in black took one long look at Kain, and then glanced down at Cecil's body, and then Kain again. Kain glared up at him the entire duration of the exchange, his jaw clenched, and Rosa uttered a silent whimper, the latest spell she had been attempting lost to the aether.

"Cecil!" the man in black finally choked, lowering his head. Another parade of footsteps clambered in, and much to Ceodore's shock, King Edge of Eblan, Rydia, and Princess Luca of the Underworld appeared, all of them looking as exhausted and destroyed as he felt. Luca immediately ran to Cid, screaming something imperceptible as she threw her arms around him. A less sturdy man would have been bowled over, but Cid merely hugged back tightly, blubbering into her shoulder. Rydia lingered behind, drinking in the horrors before her as Edge stopped in the middle of the throne room and shook his head confusedly.

 _Why are Ceodore, Rosa, Cid and Edward letting Kain anywhere near Cecil?!_

 _…And why the hell is he dressed in that drag?_

"Rydia…!" Rosa gasped, finally gathering her faculties enough to speak. "How did you…?"

"You're all OK! Thank the heavens!" Edward exclaimed as Rydia's glassy gaze fell over his shoulder wound, the crackling static in her ears growing louder and louder. _Did Kain do that to you in Damcyan…?_

The man in black knelt over Cecil's body, pressing the back of his palm to Cecil's nearly-transparent cheek as he hurriedly scanned for blood or any other evidence of a wound. Glaring back up at Kain, he let out a hiss between clenched teeth, recalling Porom's tearful account of when Kain had told her he was going to murder Cecil. "What did you do!?"

" _Nothing_!" Kain snapped, extending his hand in anticipation of summoning his lance. "Who the hell are you, and how do _you_ know Cecil?"

Suddenly, Cecil twitched in Kain's lap, his back convulsing as his head lolled against the man in black's outstretched hand. His eyelids fluttered, only a slit of cloudy blue revealed.

"My...brother..."

As soon as the words fell from Cecil's lips, he faded back into unconsciousness, and Kain could feel his body stiffening once more. Rosa's face turned to stone, her eyes darting up at the towering man before her. Edge tugged down his cowl, his lips twisted into a sneer as Ceodore watched his hand slowly position itself over the knife hanging from his waist. "Aha.. _!"_

 _Whoosh!_ Another belabored breath was forced out of Ceodore like a punch to the gut.

 _I thought Father's elder brother Theodor was dead…_

"So you're..." Rydia trailed off, her eyes watering – she couldn't bring herself to say his true name – or at least the name she had always known him by – her tongue had become lead. She was being assaulted by a deluge of emotions – _fear, betrayal, disgust, pure, unadulterated anger_ – but strangely enough, _sadness_ seemed to be the one to dominate them all. Ceodore turned to her worriedly, wondering why she was so distressed about his uncle seemingly returning from the dead.

"You're _Golbez_!" Kain finished for her, causing Rydia to cover her face with her hands. Rosa shrank away from the man in black, instinctively sliding behind Kain's still-extended arm.

 _Golbez…!_ Ceodore had to swallow back the rising sickness that had suddenly raced up his throat, the blood draining from his face as a spill of cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. _That can't be right...that horrible man cannot be my father's brother…cannot be my very own blood!_ But the matching looks of terror on everyone's face, save for the rage etched deeply into Kain's features, told him well enough that it was all true – another nightmare come to life.

Everyone was frozen in place, afraid to speak or react to Kain's accusation. The man in black – _Golbez_ – turned away from the dragoon, glaring up at the mysterious girl like he had only just now noticed her for the first time. She gave him a subtle finger-wag of a wave, tilting her head.

"You're still alive – guess Titan couldn't finish the job after all."

"Evidently," Golbez shrugged. "Not that I have quite as many bodies as you do."

"What?!" Rydia cried, suddenly snapping from her stupor. "Many bodies…?" The mysterious girl laughed, shaking her head.

"Oh, the picture is becoming yet clearer for me now… _another_ tricky half-breed is among us. But I guess not all you are the same – this one is much less honest than our Cecil, isn't he?"

"What is she talking about?" Rydia whirled around to face Golbez, a fresh round of tears springing from her eyes. "Did you know this woman before you joined us?" Golbez looked at Rydia, the darkness clouding his gaze an adequate enough affirmation. Rydia shrank back, swallowing, and the mysterious girl clapped her hands together.

"Now, now. It truly doesn't matter. At this point, you are all just a middling distraction. I daresay you have outlived your usefulness." She floated down from the throne, snapping her fingers as an explosion of golden and green crystalline spheres orbited around her, etching a magic circle beneath her levitating white feet.

"…No!" Rydia cried, suddenly throwing herself at the girl and pushing her down to the ground, wildly grabbing at her wrists. "I won't let you! I won't let you turn any more of them against me…!"

"Rydia!" A chorus of voices screamed her name – Ceodore's desperate bleating among them. The mysterious girl threw her head back and laughed, the aura around her fading as she gave in to Rydia's relentless flailing. Behind them, a cyclonic blast was erupting behind the covered windows, the piercing roar of a wyvern preceding an implosion of shattered glass that drove over them like a hurricane. Ceodore shrieked, ducking his head and covering his face with his arms as shards of glass tore his exposed skin to ribbons. Rydia threw herself down over the mysterious girl, and Kain dove on top of Rosa and Cecil, forcing them to the ground with his body as their shield. Gnarled black claws tore through the billowing curtains, yanking them from the walls as a majestic black dragon forced himself through the destruction and landed with an earth-shaking thump on top of Cecil's throne, crushing it effortlessly beneath him. His maw gnashed angrily as he threw his long, slender neck into a snaking curve, letting out a rush of blinding blue-white flames that scorched the ceiling, his violet and black wings extending their full length behind him.

"No…no..." Rydia sobbed, lifting her heaving form from the mysterious girl, who just stared up at her blankly with a slight smile on her face. "Not the All-Father, too!"

"Bahamut!" Golbez shook his head, reaching behind him and unsheathing his blade. "I'm sorry…Fusoya and were too late save you…"

"No!" Rydia shrieked, whirling around to face him as she leapt to her feet. "You can't!"

"Look out!" Edward cried. "He's going to…!"

But his warning was drowned out by Bahamut's menacing howl, liquid flame pouring from between his jagged, yellow teeth as he thrust his maw forward and unleashed a devastating maelstrom of boiling flares and all-consuming fire. Rydia turned back to Bahamut just as the flames reached her outstretched, trembling hand, her tears scintillating in the seething light of his Mega Flare.

 _This can't be the end!_ Ceodore clenched his eyes shut, and he could feel a dizzying rush of scorching air lick the tips of his ears as he sank helplessly to his knees. _First Odin, and now Bahamut –_ _why do Rydia's eidolons want to destroy us!?_

" _Reflect!_ "

A dazzling rainbow shield materialized in front of everyone, the flames bouncing off their bodies with a delicate chorus of chimes and screeching back toward Bahamut and the mysterious girl. A barrage of pulsating fireballs obliterated Bahamut's ebony scales, racing to render his flesh to ash as the fire surged over his body and wings. With a deafening roar, Bahamut lurched backward, fading into a flame-ridden, twisted shadow before he could fall out of the gaping hole he had detonated in the throne room.

Standing to the side, her spine ramrod-straight and her legs spread in a defensive stance as she shielded Cecil and Kain was Rosa; her hands folded in prayer and eyes alight with rage.

The final dynamo of flame that had collided with Rydia's protective magic ricocheted off of her like a miniature comet and smashed into the mysterious girl, forcing her to her knees as she released a blood-chilling cry and clawed at her blackening skin, her glossy hair now a smoking mass of glowing embers. Rydia took a step back, glaring coldly as the girl let out a final gurgling whimper, collapsing to the floor face-first and dissipating into a mess of ash and gossamer thread. Only her glittering silver and ruby jewels remained whole when the maelstrom had finished consuming her, glinting in the light of the violently swaying chandeliers above.

Edge raced up to Rydia, launching himself into an impromptu somersault and letting out a weak, disbelieving laugh. "We... we've done it!" Rydia didn't reply – she was still staring at the remains of the mysterious girl, her lips pressed into a thin line. Rosa dropped her hands, releasing the spell and wobbling on her feet as the intensity of the spiritual power she had harnessed to cast Reflect over such a massive range of targets finally caught up to her. Kain leapt to his feet, resting one hand on her waist to steady her as Ceodore's eyes desperately searched his father's still form, blood trickling down his forearms.

 _Both that woman and Bahamut are gone…so why has he still not woken up?_

Golbez lowered his blade, narrowing his eyes. "No, we have not."

Edge was about to make a smart retort when a blinding swell of light filled the room, four pairs of vacuous amber orbs surrounding the charred remains of the mysterious girl. When Ceodore's vision had finally managed to focus, he saw four identical copies of the same girl they had just slain staring at him, all with matching slashes for smiles. When one of them opened her mouth to speak, four simultaneous voices poured out, reverberating in the devastated chamber.

"Well done. Now I am off to deliver the crystals to their rightful master. This planet serves no purpose any longer."

"Wait!" Golbez snarled, diving forward to grab the girl closest to him by the throat. Her body flickered, and his hand passed through her as she teleported away, appearing next to Cecil and kneeling down to run her fingers over his hair.

"Thanks to you, I'll have lots of data to bring to _him_ about half-breeds. As a reward for your efforts, you will sleep peacefully forevermore while the rest of your planet suffers an agonizing death. Good-bye, Cecil." She stood up, ignoring the others as she teleported again, this time for good. Her three clones followed suit, each disappearing wordlessly in a swirling portal of blue light.

"What did you do to Cecil!?" Golbez screamed, but the last of the portals faded away, submerging them into eerie silence once more. Rosa clapped her hand over her mouth, shaking her head and moaning her husband's name under her breath.

"Cecil!"

Kain gazed down at Cecil's body, sighing. "You were the real Cecil all along? I figured as much…although I didn't want to believe it."

"Father!" Ceodore cried, slumping next to Cecil and grabbing his hand. It had grown ice-cold, and Ceodore could barely feel the flutter of a pulse beneath a wrist that looked as if it would snap as easily as a twig beneath his boot. "Come on…you've gotta wake up! Please…!"

Golbez watched Ceodore warily from behind, crossing his arms over his chest. It had been brief, but he had seen the look in the boy's eyes when Kain had revealed his true name – they were indeed the same cerulean as Cecil's, right down to the crystalline flecks of light that spoke to the divine blood that coursed through his veins. Ceodore's gaze had filled with the same terror Golbez had seen in Cecil's eyes that fateful day in the Giant of Babil when they had learned they were brothers – he would have thought he had been hurled back through time to relive it all had Cecil's unresponsive body not been splayed unceremoniously before him.

 _I had not dared to expect any less – of course he would hate me, after everything I have done – but why do I feel so devastated by something I already knew to be true?_

Kain took a deep breath, weighing his words carefully as he lifted his gaze away from Ceodore and Cecil to Golbez. "…Do you know anything about those people?"

His self-flagellation interrupted, Golbez raised an eyebrow at Kain's rather abrupt attempt to talk business. It had become blatantly obvious by the tenderness in Kain's efforts to protect both Cecil and Rosa in the battle against Bahamut that he didn't want to kill Cecil at all – he knew there had to be more to the story behind Porom's assault, but he honestly didn't care at this point. The end result of whether or not Kain had gone rogue had been the same – Cecil had been lost to them, and he had failed to keep his promise to Fusoya to protect both his brother and the planet. Finally, he let out a low sigh, daring himself to meet Kain's stare. "More than you do, probably."

Edward stepped forward, clearing his throat. Golbez noticed that unlike Kain, Edward couldn't bring himself to look directly at him – his darting eyes finally settled on Rydia and Rosa, a more pleasing sight to be sure, despite both women looking as if they had walked through the fires of hell and back. "They – er, she – said that this planet serves no purpose. Do those girls intend to destroy the world with that moon?"

"They couldn't…!" Rydia whimpered, and Edge whirled around to face Golbez, his face reddening.

"Can't you stop it somehow!?"

"It's not the Lunarians' moon," Golbez turned away – he didn't like the accusatory tone in Edge's voice, even though he admitted that he deserved every bit of it for misleading them. He supposed he should be grateful that Edge wasn't driving steel into his gut as they spoke – he had seen the way he had cavalierly reached for his knife earlier. "I can't do anything."

"What?" Kain shook his head. "So this is a _third_ moon?"

"That's what Harley had suspected," Rydia frowned. "I can't believe she was right this whole time."

Luca rested her hands on her hips, tilting her head. "Come on you guys, don't act like this is the end! The crystals have all been taken up to the new moon, right? Cid and I could fix up the Falcon to travel there!"

Cid frowned, gently patting Luca's shoulder. "I hate to say this, given the situation and all... But we just can't do it, girl. The planet's gravitational pull is too much even for my birds – we don't have the technology, or the know-how. By the looks of how big that moon is lookin' outside, I'd give the Blue Planet two or three days, tops, before something else unsavory makes contact with us. We'll never figure it out in time."

"…There is a way," Golbez said quietly, and Kain drew in a sharp breath.

"Oh? I thought you said you couldn't do anything?"

"I _can't_ do anything about the moon," Golbez shrugged. "But I came here on my father's ship – the Lunar Whale. I'm sure we can use it to escape the planet's gravitational pull, just as you once did when you traveled to the Red Moon."

"That's perfect!" Luca gasped. "Where is it? I can take you to find it on the Falcon right away!"

Before Golbez could answer, Cid shook his head. "Now hold on a second," he said softly, raising his hands. "Luca, I know you were young and all during the war, and probably don't remember too much. But…we need to take some things into consideration before we decide to just flee the planet to fight a new phantom on a new moon." Guilt flashed in the reflection of his goggles as he glanced up at Golbez. "For starters…"

"…You don't trust me, right?" Golbez tilted his head, and Cid's ruddy cheeks became stained with scarlet. Edge shoved himself between Cid and Golbez, although he had to push himself up onto his toes to reach Golbez's full height.

"Well, of course not!" he protested. "I mean, why did you even come back here after all this time? It's been seventeen years – a lot has changed since you decided to conveniently go into hiding and leave us to clean up your mess! And don't you _dare_ say that you came back for Cecil – Cecil needed you long before any of this happened! He forgave you, and then you took advantage of his kindness and broke his heart! What do you think that kind of betrayal does to a man, huh?"

"Edge!" Rosa cried. "Please!" She motioned slightly toward Ceodore, who was still kneeling at Cecil's side, sobbing over his father's chest. Rydia pressed her lips together, lowering her gaze.

 _Edge… As the years went by after the war, I thought you had stopped caring as much about all of us – you seemed so eager to move on to bigger and better things. It was so easy for you to leave me behind, after all. But you really love Cecil, don't you? And it seems you always have…_

"Sorry, Rosa, but it's the truth!" Edge snapped. "And you know as well as I Ceodore should learn it too – this is his heritage, after all."

"Don't tell me what _my son_ needs to learn!"

Kain took a step back as they argued, a suffocating sense of dread wrapping around his heart and squeezing until he felt as if his lungs would burst. He realized with horror that everything Edge had just accused Golbez of could be unequivocally applied to him as well – for the last seventeen years, he had been trying to understand why it had to be him that had fallen under Golbez – and Zemus's – thrall, why it had to be his life and his best friends that he had lost to the ever-encroaching darkness.

 _But the question should have always been why I thought I was so_ _ **different**_ _that it couldn't have been me. Golbez and I…we have the same heart…our love can become twisted and dangerous with just the right touch of darkness…the same as any other man…!_

"Stop!" Kain finally shouted, and the room fell silent, everyone turning to stare at him. Even Ceodore was shaken from his mourning trance, his eyes bloodshot and spent of tears. Kain pushed his hair away from his eyes, sighing.

"I know we all have questions. None of us truly know what is happening – we don't even know our enemy, or their purpose for the crystals. But we can't spend what little time we have left doubting each other. There is a _single_ person everyone in this room has in common – and he's the reason why we've gathered at this place, at this time." Kain's gaze fell on Cecil, and he lowered his head to hide the quivering in his voice. "We have to ask ourselves what Cecil would do – and we have to act in his stead until he can wake up again."

"Kain…" Rydia sniffled, hesitantly brushing her fingers over his. _Are these really the same hands that hurt Porom, Edward and Ursula? They pulse with a divine aura, just like Cecil's used to…_ "You're right. I'm sure if each of us were to share our trials of the past few days, we'd all realize that we're part of the same nightmare – one whose tapestry may have been woven far longer ago than we realize. If Cecil were standing here right now, he'd tell us that we have to fight with everything we have – that we can't give up, no matter how dark our path. That's the Cecil I believe in – and I just know in my heart that he has to still be here!"

"He would want us to forgive each other," Rosa added softly, looking between Edge and Golbez as she spoke. "Even before he became a paladin, Cecil's gift was being able to see the light in others, no matter how dim. I don't know what happened after he forced Cid and me out of Baron, but I could see the unrelenting pain in his eyes – I think he had a premonition that something terrible was going to happen, and that he was trying to save us the only way he knew how." She turned to Rydia, biting her lip. "So yes…I believe that Cecil is still here too!"

"And he wouldn't wallow in the past," Edward nodded. "Even though it seems to be repeating itself with alarming regularity as of late – he would ask what action could be taken now, so we could change the future and make it something better. Whatever wicked spell that girl has cast upon him – I'll sever it with my bare hands, if I have to!"

Golbez crossed his arms over his chest, shivering as Ceodore bore into him with both his brother's and his mother's crystalline stare. _Cecil loved this planet, and all of you – his friends and the family he made for himself, despite the sordid fate I tried to bestow upon him when he was but an infant. He holds the same love for the Blue Planet that ultimately doomed our father – but he was able to wield the crystals' light, and save us all from our ancestors' lunacy._

"The crystal Cecil once used against Zemus would not shed its light for a false heart," Golbez frowned. _Like mine._ "I won't pretend to understand him as well as you do…but I know without a doubt that what you speak is true. So I can only beg of you, although I have no right to ask you for anything – take the Lunar Whale, seek out the new moon, and find the way to break Cecil's curse. If you don't want my company, I'll stay behind – but at least let me assist you by retrieving the ship. Only those of Lunarian blood can command it – so it's either going to be Ceodore or I as long as Cecil remains incapacitated."

Ceodore's eyes widened – he had no idea what kind of model of airship a Lunar Whale could possibly refer to, but it sounded insanely powerful if it could go into the outer reaches of space itself with just the command of his voice. Edge let out a half-laugh, half-snarl, wagging his finger.

"Don't think you're getting out of fighting that easily," he smirked. "If we have to suffer, you're going to do so right along with us. Got it? But I'll accompany you and Luca on the Falcon – I have to be the one to break it to my men that I'm gonna be gone for a while." Golbez replied only with a nod, and Luca pumped her fist into the air.

"Thank you, Edge!" she cried, and Rosa and Kain exchanged small, worried smiles. Luca turned to Cid, shaking his shoulder anxiously. "Are you coming too, Chief?"

"I don't think so," Cid shook his head. "You won't be gone long, right? I'll run to town to check on Amelia and Mid…I just want to make sure they're doing alright before I…" he trailed off, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "…Well, before I take another long trip. I suppose Amelia is worrying herself sick, after all."

 _A long trip none of us may survive,_ Rydia thought. _What was it that Cecil told Rosa and I when he kicked us off the Lunar Whale before confronting Zemus?_

 _"This time, there may be no homecoming…"_

"You know, Edward, Harley is on board," Luca added. "And I'm sure she'd really like to see you." She decided to conveniently leave out the part where Harley's rage had just been below simmering as she had been telling them the tale of how Edward had left her behind – she thought a dramatic lovers' reunion might make for good entertainment while she took Golbez back to the Lunar Whale.

"What!?" Edward gasped. "You speak truly? That girl…she's never satisfied with sitting around and waiting for someone to do something for her – she always has to jump into the fray herself." But he was uncontrollably grinning the entire time he spoke, and the apples of his cheeks had taken on a rosy glow despite his usual pallor. "I think I'll take you up on your offer, Luca."

"The three of us will wait here," Rosa said, motioning to Kain and Ceodore. "Swift preparations will need to be made – both Baron and I will be depending on you while we're gone, Ceodore."

"What!?" Ceodore cried, jumping to his feet. "You can't be serious about leaving me behind – I'm coming too! I want to do anything I can to help Father!"

"Absolutely not!" Rosa replied, her eyes narrowing. "End of discussion."

"Mother…!" Ceodore gasped, clenching his fist as tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. "You can't just throw all of _this_ ," he motioned toward the destroyed throne room and may have inadvertently pointed a shaking finger at Golbez, "at me and then expect me to sit on the throne and wait diligently for the world to end! Be reasonable!"

 _Oh my gods – he sounds exactly like Rosa when she was begging to come with Cecil to the moon,_ Rydia mused, pressing her fingers to her lips. _He's sure changed a lot since the last time I saw him…I guess all of this has forced him to grow up pretty fast. The old Ceodore would have never had the confidence to stand up to his parents like that…_

"I think I will stay behind," Rydia announced, and she tried to resist grinning when she saw how Edge's face fell in disappointment. "Ceodore – maybe we could go to the village together and check in on your grandmother. She was worried about you before when we stopped by her house."

"Um…" Ceodore sighed, shooting one last glare at his mother before turning away. "…You're right – I should visit her. And I want to make sure the other villagers are OK, too." He glanced at his bloodied arms, cringing. "…I better heal myself first, or everyone is going to fuss over me."

 _Good boy,_ Rydia thought. _Let's give Rosa some time to cool down. Knowing her, her insides are probably liquefying from stress as we speak – maybe Kain will talk her off the ledge._

Everyone made a hasty departure, leaving Rosa and Kain alone in the throne room with Cecil. As soon as the door had slammed shut behind the last deserter (Cid, blurting promises the entire way that he would be back to help Rosa and Kain with whatever they needed as soon as possible – seeing his three "other children" together once again, although in a tragic manner none of them had ever anticipated, had almost made him second-guess leaving), Rosa collapsed next to Cecil once more, now allowing herself the luxury of another round of tears thanks to dear Rydia whisking Ceodore away for a few precious hours of respite. More than anything, she had wanted to be strong in front of her son throughout their entire ordeal, but felt like she had utterly failed – and now that Cecil was gone, she realized she had to fortify that strength two-fold.

 _This will be the last of my tears shed...I made a promise to you, Cecil…and I intend to keep it until my dying breath. I will survive this, and save our son's future – even if I have to do it without you by my side._

Kain rested his hand on her shoulder, bending to one knee. "It's going to be all right, Rosa. I swear to you, I'll do whatever I can to wake Cecil up. He's far stronger than he appears in his current state – that girl could only do this much to him, despite the terrifying power she displayed – he's still _here_ and still fighting with every draw of breath."

"It's not just Cecil," Rosa moaned, followed by a loud hiccup that bounced against the chamber walls. "Seventeen years…why, after all this time…? I hate to admit it, but Edge was right...even in Cecil's happiest moments, there was always the slightest shade of heartache in his smile, his eyes, his movements…I first noticed it the night Ceodore was born…that the tears in his eyes weren't entirely joyful. After that, it was impossible for me not to see – I could sense the lingering agony in the undercurrent of his every action. For seventeen _long_ years…Cecil dreamt of a future that was never meant to be his."

Kain clenched his jaw, releasing Rosa's shoulder and marveling at the calm, ethereal expression that had settled itself onto Cecil's features ever since he had briefly awoken to acknowledge Golbez's return.

"You're talking about me, and not Golbez, aren't you?"

" _Of course_!" Rosa cried, pressing her palms to the floor as she let out another retching sob. "I meant everything I said when you came back – I missed you dearly, and prayed every day that you would return to us. But deep down…I'm still really…really…!"

"Angry?" Kain suggested, and the earth-shattering scream that erupted from her very core provided all the validation he needed. If the windows in the throne room hadn't already been blown out by Bahamut, Rosa would have finished them off. As it was, Kain was fairly sure she could be heard all the way from the Falcon, wherever it had taken off to.

They sat together in awkward silence, Kain making it a point to watch her even as she very obviously tried to avoid eye contact by focusing on Cecil, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. After a few excruciating minutes, Rosa parted her lips, but Kain immediately jumped in.

"Don't apologize. You have every right to be upset – and I know I have no right to just fall back into your lives like this. It's…it's actually kind of a relief that someone is finally mad at me for everything I've done. I mean, let's face it…I've been a really bad friend."

"…That is the understatement of the century," Rosa muttered, and Kain couldn't help but give in to the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was true that so much had changed since he had left Baron; his former comrades had all moved on to new stages of their lives, new adventures, new dreams. But it comforted him dearly that he was now able to affirm for himself that some things were truly eternal – like how beautiful Rosa still looked even when she was furious, or the way her love for her friends drove her to face the most terrifying of nightmares, only armed with the optimism and grace that had made Cecil – and himself – fall in love with her over and over again. He watched as she placed her hand over Cecil's, a tear sliding down her cheek and splashing onto his breastplate.

"But I meant everything I said before too," Kain said softly, laying his hand upon hers so that his fingers entwined with both hers and Cecil's. "I'm not going anywhere – not ever again. If you two will have me, that is. Well, I guess make that three – I suppose Ceodore won't be too happy with me either, once he learns more about our past with Golbez – I'm sure that will all eventually be coming out now that he's back."

"Ceodore will understand," Rosa sighed. "I find that I oftentimes forget what it was like to be his age – when you become an adult, you think children are so naïve and have no idea about the complexities of the world around them – but he's reminding me over and over again of just how untrue that is. Do you think I was too harsh with him before? He's so worried about Cecil."

"I think you were being a mother," Kain smiled. "There is a not a single parent in the world who would rush to throw their child into such danger. But…he's also clearly inherited _your_ stubbornness, which means he's going to defy you no matter your wishes. At this point, you may as well let him come along. You'll be able to keep an eye on him and won't be worried about how he is faring by himself. He's really quite capable and brave if you give him the space to spread his wings – I suppose he gets that from his father."

Rosa sighed loudly, pulling her ponytail off of her neck where it had been sitting in a sweaty clump of ash and debris from the battle with Bahamut and weaving it absentmindedly between her fingers. "…It should have been you all along."

"Pardon?"

"Ceodore's godfather…it should have been you. Cecil and I spent a long time discussing it…but it would have roused a lot of questions and conspiracy theories in the kingdom if we had given that title to a man many presumed to be dead. So we gave Ceodore no godparents, and simply raised him on stories of the brave dragoon knight that had been his father's best friend, whom we would welcome home with open arms if he were to ever return. That was one of the biggest disappointments Cecil carried in his heart after the war – but I fear there was nothing we could do. When you become sovereign, your desires cease to be truly yours forevermore."

Kain felt the heat rise in his face. _All this time…they never hated me for what I did – for the unnecessary pain I caused that bled into a new generation._ "Is there a story behind the boy's name?"

"Shortly after we were wed, Cecil and I searched for his birth parents' graves," Rosa pulled Cecil's hand into her lap as she spoke, but of course, there was no reaction to her touch or her words. "It was there that we discovered that Golbez's birth name was Theodor. If Ceodore had been a girl, we agreed to name him after Cecil's mother. But Cecil still wanted to honor her in some way…so we combined her name with Golbez's birth name, and came up with Ceodore."

"A beautiful tribute," Kain offered. "For what it's worth…I'm sorry I wasn't there. I should have been – there is so much I missed in your lives that is unforgivable. Maybe that's why I was drawn to Ceodore's light when I first found him in the Mysidian fields…maybe something inside of me that had been sleeping for such a very long time finally woke up."

"A miracle, to be sure," Rosa sniffled, dragging her wrist across her swollen eyes – Kain thought she resembled a scared albino rabbit. "And now, I am already in need of another. But in the meantime…" She gazed down at Cecil's body, shivering. "…I can't just leave him like this…Will you help me take him up to our room?"

"Of course," Kain nodded, rising to his feet and pulling her along with him. He then knelt down, gathering Cecil in his arms effortlessly. "Lead the way – I'm anxious to see how much has changed around here since I've been gone."

Rosa's thumb caught the latch on the throne room door as she made a final inspection of the carnage laid at their feet. When her eyes fell upon Cecil's shattered throne, she had to force herself to look away before she started to cry again. She wasn't the one in the family that was privy to premonitions or omens – but there had been times in her life when the universe was not so subtle about passing her a message, and she could only pray that this was not one of them. She caught Kain eyeing her questioningly, and quickly turned back to the door, yanking it open with perhaps more force than was necessary.

"Not as much as you would think…"

* * *

 _Baron, one day after the appearance of the new moon_

"Do I know you?" Cecil frowned, watching as the man's hood fell back from his face.

The man pushed the damp locks of corn silk hair away from his face, saying nothing as he locked eyes with the king. Alarm bells were going off in Cecil's head – he could feel his pulse quickening, the lethargic ache that had taken his entire body hostage sinking its fangs into his spine for a fresh round of torture.

For a few tense moments, the room was silent as they stared at each other – even the storm outside had gone dormant. The pain to the point of now bleeding into his vision, Cecil was the first to look away, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest in a defiant effort to mask his agony. _It hurts…everything hurts…how is he doing this to me?!_

"If you're just a stray beggar, then please leave immediately. I am a very busy man."

That had done the trick, although Cecil wasn't quite sure how he knew the words would cut so deep. They had just tumbled from his mouth before he could even rehearse them in his head – not that he could even hear himself think with the incessant pounding. The hooded man turned away, clenching his jaw as he reached back and pulled the hood over his face once more. "Pardon me..."

As the door to the throne room slid shut behind him, Cecil slumped down slightly in his throne, a seizing pain ripping through his left temple as he screwed his eyes shut, clenching his head in his hands. A series of nonsensical images flashed through his mind – children arguing in a shipyard, one of them a platinum blonde sprite nearly driven to tears, a figure clad in emerald armor sitting on a stool in a non-descript establishment, his head starting to turn as Cecil stepped through the threshold, sky-blue eyes seeking his own in the darkness as the earth raged beneath them, dragging their bodies down as a broken voice cried out his name over and over.

"Cecil…!"

 _Where have I seen that man before? Ah…!_

* * *

 _Baron, two days after the appearance of the new moon_

"What is this, my lord?" Edward asked confusedly, turning the box over in his fingers. A small swing enclosure in the front kept it sealed tight – it took all of Cecil's self-control not to encourage Edward to open it immediately. What did he care of the consequences? As far as he was concerned, where the assault occurred did not matter – it was all about the target that stood between him and the final crystal.

But instead, Cecil offered a crooked smile. "A token of our friendship, and of my appreciation for your visit. Please, accept it." He approached Edward, closing his hands over the box in Edward's hand and emphatically pressing it into the man's chest, like he could telepathically impart his wishes for the box to be opened. Edward looked up at him apprehensively, shivering from the touch of Cecil's cold hands and making it a point not to even brush over the box's latch as he glanced at Harley. Cecil took a step back when suddenly the brutal seizing from yesterday overtook him once more. It was more powerful than ever – it made the pain he had suffered when that hooded beggar came around feel like a stroll on the promenade. The roar of flames drowned his senses as Edward said something to him that came out as garbled nonsense.

* * *

 _Smoke trickled out of the ruby insignia of the ring as it quivered and began to crack. Suddenly bursting open, jewel shards flying in every direction, balls of smoke erupted in mid-air, giving birth to writhing balls of flame with gnashing fangs and soulless orange eyes – they were Bombs, fire-breathing beasts seemingly imported from Hell itself. Within moments, the entire village was ensconced in terror as the Bombs turned it into their playground. The distant cry of a child could be heard down the lane over the roar of the hungry flames as Cecil fell to his knees, his body paralyzed with the realization that he had become a murderer for the second time in twenty-four hours._

 _"Mommy! Noooooo!"_

* * *

When Cecil opened his eyes once again, he found himself with an armful of flowers. He knew he was saying something to Edward, but he couldn't comprehend the words coming out of his mouth – something in his brain had short-circuited, disconnecting him from the rest of his body. Like a ghost watching the rest of the world function unawares of his presence, Cecil saw himself press his nose into the bouquet, smiling appreciatively and promptly thrusting the flowers away toward a waiting guard. He turned to Edward, watching anxiously as he kept the little metal box clutched shut between his trembling fingers, nodding to whatever it was Cecil was simpering on about.

 _What did I give to him?_ ** _What have I done?_**

* * *

 _Baron, three days after the appearance of the new moon_

"Welcome back," Cecil declared, rising to his feet. He took a long look at each of the new faces that had forced their way into his domain, tapping his finger to his chin as he slowly strode down the line.

 _That's right…I know these people._

"I'm glad to see you all. Ceodore, Rosa, Cid, Edward…" He shook his head when his eyes fell on the dragoon in resplendent emerald armor, the scales shining with the sheen of a rainbow despite the darkness of the throne room. Oh yes…he definitely knew this man too…once upon a time, he had taken a different form, and had played a different role in his life, but Cecil would have known him from anywhere. (At least, that's what he told himself.)

 _It's on the tip of my tongue... Ah, of course!_

 _"…and most of all, Kain Highwind!"_

As soon as he spoke it aloud, the name left a queer taste in his mouth, and the always-lingering shadows began to penetrate his vision once more.

 _"Cecil!"_

 _"Father!"_

He opened his eyes (but when exactly had he closed them?), the chill of the darkness spread before him seeping through the plates of his armor as he pressed his fingers to his throbbing temples. Any minute, he was sure a vein would burst and split his head into two – he felt as if someone was sharpening a pair of blades on his skull.

 _Ceodore? Rosa? Cid? Edward? Kain!? What are you doing here…? No...what am I doing here…!?_

A dying glimmer of light rose before him – it took all of his strength to force his legs to move forward to chase after it. As he got closer, he saw that it wasn't light at all – it was just the face of a tarnished mirror, reflecting the tears that had unknowingly begun to pool in his darkened eyes. Pressing his fingers to the glass, Cecil whimpered as another spasm tore through him, clenching his eyes shut and fighting the urge to scream at the top of his lungs.

He didn't know how much time had passed – lately, he had not been able to tell the difference between a second and twenty-four hours. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself still standing before the mirror, his palm marred in sweat, but pressed to the glass exactly where he had left it. But this time, there was something wrong with the person staring back at him. He was able to recognize himself right away, despite the overwhelming darkness clouding his view – but it was his twenty year-old face that was staring back at him somberly, transparent purple circles traced beneath two pools of black, and limp, shoulder-length silver hair pulled back from his face that revealed a slender jaw clenched with acerbity.

"What…?" Cecil whispered, and the reflection followed suit, cracked, bloodstained lips mimicking his words. In a trance, Cecil reached his other hand into the mirror, the glass rippling around his fingers like the rings in a pond, and withdrew a slender, curved blade, steel tempered in a gradient of scarlet and ebony.

 _I know this blade… But I thought it was lost long ago on Mount Ordeals…_

 _They called it "The Deathbringer"... The legendary blade of darkness…_

"Cecil!"

Cecil whirled around, the blade moving seamlessly with him. Rosa was staring at him blankly, her lips pressed in a thin line and her hands folded at the waist of her ivory gown.

"Father!"

He turned to his left. Ceodore was gazing up at him wordlessly, haunting blue eyes illuminating the filth and grime of the mirror and causing the reflection of the fallen knight within to shrink way, a low hiss filling the air.

Gentle footfalls made their approach, and Cecil raised his blade, the hair on the back of his neck standing at attention. Emerging from the darkness was a tall figure clad in black, dark silver hair falling over his shoulders. A flash of violet froze Cecil in place, his blade raised mid-air and his paralyzed limbs refusing to cooperate as he stared helplessly at the titan of a man.

 _"Cecil!"_

 _How do you know my name!?_ His spell of paralysis suddenly broke as the three figures disappeared without warning in another flash of pulsing violet light. The sword dropped from his hand and he fell to his knees, his twitching fingers colliding with suffocating steel and the sharpened curves of a demon's horns as he clawed at his head. He tucked his chin to his chest, finally releasing the uncontrollable scream that had been festering in his heart of hearts.

"Ugh…! NOOOOO…!"

* * *

 _Baron, the morning of the new moon's arrival_

Reaching out as if she were afraid of being burned, the mysterious girl gingerly ran a finger through Cecil's silver-white hair, letting the silky locks dangle from her fingers like a ribbon as she lifted her hand up and away. Pressing her cheek against her hand, she tilted her head in thought and gently rocked on the balls of her feet, musing out loud over Cecil's fallen form.

"So this is the limit of a half-breed. As expected..."

To her shock, Cecil's eyes slowly opened at the sound of her voice, his dilated gaze unfocused as he desperately gasped for air. "What...what do you seek?"

She ignored his question, tapping her finger to her lips in an effort to mask her surprise that he was still alive. She had anticipated that the eidolons were going to be the key to making quick work of the crystals of the Blue Planet – that had been the plan all along, at any rate – but she had _never_ expected to see him again after their last rather eventful introduction, if you could call it that. He was the very defiance of fate personified – an abomination of a creature that should have never come to be, but had somehow not only been born, but had thrived on this hole of a planet, and integrated effortlessly with its native insects.

She lowered her head, speaking so closely to him that her lips brushed against his ear. "Still, you are a valuable sample. I suppose you will be useful…" She roughly shoved his battle-scorched body aside until he was flat on his back, her amber eyes flashing as she lifted his head up by the crown of his hair and pressed a finger to his bloodied lips.

"This will only hurt a little. _I think._ "

 _Rosa…Ceodore…I…_

 _I'm sorry…_

* * *

Ceodore and Rydia's journey to the village had given them some time to catch up on everything that had happened in the past few days – Rydia was particularly touched that Ceodore had made an effort to seek her out when he made his escape from Baron, and found herself impressed that he had managed to navigate his uncertain allyship with Kain Highwind to his advantage, despite mounting evidence that something terrifying might ultimately come of it.

"So the dragoon that stole the Water, Wind and Fire Crystals…?"

"It was still the Kain you saw in the throne room," Ceodore frowned, biting his lip in thought. _How to explain?_ "Something happened that freed the darkness from his heart and gave it corporeal form – he didn't explain everything, but I think it might have happened on Mount Ordeals – he would have been traveling from that direction when he found me. But before you guys found us, he finally defeated his dark self and accepted it back inside of him. Then there was this light, and I heard a voice…" He shook his head. "The voice called for "his sons" and that was when Kain acquired that armor and the holy lance. I was in shock when it all happened, but recalling it for you now; I'm still kind of confused."

"A voice, huh?" Rydia stared at her feet as they walked, noticing that the craters were starting to become more frequent as they approached the village. "Ceodore…I think that was your grandfather. Cecil's father, if you will. As a full-blooded Lunarian, his soul was the one who imparted the moon's divine light unto Cecil when he was younger, transforming him into a paladin so that he could defeat Zemus."

"Are you serious?" Ceodore balked. "Father's never told me the details of his trial…"

"Perhaps I've said too much, then," Rydia flushed. It hadn't been her intention to overstep her bounds, although she had no way of knowing what Cecil and Rosa had actually told their son about his lineage – she had been as guilty as Edge in terms of letting her despair keep her distant from her friends over the past few years.

And that had been when it had finally clicked in her mind – the realization of why she had wanted to simultaneously punch Edge in the face and press her body to his all in the same breath ever since he fell back into her life.

 _They say you can't stand to see in others what you hate about yourself…Ugh!_

"Rydia?" Ceodore blinked, but her thoughts had drifted elsewhere – that conversation had met its end.

Once they had arrived, Rydia checked on the sylphs to learn of what progress their efforts had made in defending what had been left of the village after the first wave of meteors, and Ceodore reunited with his grandmother, who was thankfully unharmed. Both the prince and the summoner were relieved to see that the sylphs had made good on their promises, using their fae magic to heal those who had been injured and to decimate the remaining meteors before the storm had abruptly died. Rydia wondered if it had stopped once the mysterious girl – or at least, one of her forms – had perished at the hands of Bahamut's reflected magic.

After Ceodore had pried himself from his grandmother's grasp, making a tepid promise to send Rosa to town for a "visit" (i.e. a vicious tongue-lashing) after the queen had taken care of some vague "urgent business", he took a tour of the village, making his best attempt at wearing a hopeful visage as he extended offers of help and promised to take well-wishes back to the king and queen, explaining to those that asked that Cecil and Rosa were working as hard as possible to restore peace to Baron.

When Rydia had left Cid and Amelia's house, want to make a quick visit of her own, she spotted Ceodore across the boulevard, helping a family gather scattered bricks that had shot everywhere when their house had been struck dead-on by one of the meteors. She knew from stealing a glance at the clock in the house that much time had passed, and that Cid was planning on wrapping things up with his family fairly soon, so she made the executive decision to collect Ceodore and bring him back home. In a way, she kind of felt like the royal babysitter, but she found that she didn't mind it too much.

 _If I had a child as sweet as Ceodore, I don't think life would be so bad._

As she made her approach, she watched the two adults that had been assisting in the effort step inside what had now become their shell of a house, leaving Ceodore with a girl that couldn't have been more than a few years his junior. She looked up from her work, eyeing Ceodore as he came back with another pile of bricks and dumped them on the ground.

"Prince Ceodore, is it true that Baron was gathering the crystals again, and that's why we're in all this trouble?"

Both Ceodore and Rydia froze at the question, Ceodore's hands paused half-way in the air from where he had been reaching to dust them off on his clothes. The girl stared up at him expectantly, her dirt-streaked strawberry blonde locks pulled back into a knot off her neck with an oversized shawl draped around her chest. Her exposed arms were blotched in black and blue and a barrage of healing lacerations, and Rydia realized that the poor thing must have been in the house when the meteor struck. She was probably only on her feet again so soon thanks to the sylphs' magic.

Ceodore's gaze found the brick pile, and Rydia could see his fingers flexing nervously as he contemplated his reply. Finally, he kneeled to the ground so that he was at the girl's level, meeting her stare with his.

"Yes, it's true. All of it."

 _What?_ Rydia blinked. _Cutting right to the chase, are we?_ It wasn't that she expected him to flat-out lie, but she thought he would at least attempt to deflect a question as painful as that.

"But why, if people are getting hurt?" the girl sat back on her haunches, and Ceodore shook his head.

"I-I don't know. But I ensure you, I intend to find out – and I'm going to restore the crystals back to their rightful place. I don't quite know how I'm going to do it yet, but I _will_ find a way. Baron is my homeland, too, and I'll go to whatever end to prevent another war from ravaging our kingdom again." He stood back up, pushing the wilted hair out of his eyes. "If you need something to believe in, then please, believe in me. I'll need your prayers...probably a whole lot of them."

 _Ceodore!_ Rydia lowered her gaze, a chill racking her form. For just a moment, she thought she was back at Cecil's side during the first war, fading in and out of consciousness as she watched him drag himself back from the depths of darkness and rise to face Zemus, the mythical ninth crystal that the Lunarians had managed to salvage from their destroyed planet giving rise to hallowed light in his hand.

Ceodore looked up, spotting Rydia and raising his hand, suddenly reverting back to his normal, decidedly much-less majestic self. The girl turned around, giving Rydia a once-over before growing bored and going back to sorting bricks.

"I think it's time to go," Rydia called out, and Ceodore nodded, turning to the girl.

"Sorry, but I have to run."

"It's OK," she murmured, reaching over for another brick from the pile Ceodore had laid at her feet. "Just remember your promise."

"...I will."

And so they had wound back up at Baron Castle, with neither the Lunar Whale nor the Falcon anywhere in sight. Ceodore padded through the great hall, slowly making his way from one portrait to the next of mostly stodgy old men that had made up the kings of Baron past, all similarly colored with red hair that ranged from rusty to cardinal and fashioned with close-cut beards that had never seemed to go out of style among the royal set in the past eight hundred years - that was, until baby-faced Cecil had taken the throne at the tender age of twenty. Rydia watched silently as Ceodore made his way to the last portrait hanging on the wall – it was the final monarch of the Baron family's lineage, who had died without an heir or any remaining family, murdered by one of Golbez's four fiends that took his place as a ringer in an effort to use Baron's military prowess to gather the crystals.

Rydia had not thought much of Baron until she and Cecil had made the extraordinary discovery that his soul was sleeping beneath the castle, waiting for a summoner to challenge him so that he could ascend to his next form as an eidolon. Until she had forged a covenant with Baron, Rydia had had no idea that human souls were capable of such evolution – but Baron's love for Cecil had transcended the laws of the universe, and he had been reborn as Odin, the legendary dark knight hailing from the realm of the dead.

 _Cecil…is that why Baron was targeted again? Was our enemy looking to the past to unwind our future?_

As Rydia observed Ceodore, she heard him mutter something under his breath, still staring at Baron's portrait. In the silence of the gaping hall, she could almost make it out, but wasn't sure if she was meant to hear it. Taking a few steps closer, she gently laid her hand on his shoulder, and he jumped in surprise.

"Ah…sorry, you scared me. I forgot you were here."

"That's real nice," Rydia giggled, trying to joke, but Ceodore looked up at her despondently, and her smile faded away.

"Rydia…if my father…if he…"

"…He won't," Rydia said firmly, already knowing what he was going to say. But Ceodore looked away, and she caught him grinding his fist beneath his eye.

"…I don't know what happens to a Lunarian if one were to die. Is it the same as a human, where you're gone and that's it? My grandfather, if that was really his voice I heard, has been lingering on this planet for the entirety of my father's life, waiting in limbo only to send his son off on a mission to potentially die. Will I never truly inherit my birthright as a Lunarian unless my father dies, too?" He sniffled, blinking back up at Rydia with tears in his eyes. "Because if that's how it works, I don't want this stupid power anymore! I'd rather go back to being my ordinary, disappointing self – I wanted to stand out on my own, and not be associated with my legendary parents – but I would trade it all back if it meant having my family again, even if it meant being in their shadows the rest of my life."

"Ceodore…" Rydia threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her breast, gingerly stroking his back as she pressed her lips to his hair. She felt him melt into her embrace, and pulled him tighter into her, blinking away her own tears. _He has bursts of maturity and wisdom, like I saw in the village…but he's still just a fifteen year-old boy, and he's terrified of what's to come...just like when I fought in the war at his age._

"…I don't know what happens when a Lunarian – or even when a human – dies. Nobody knows – there are miracles and mysteries abound in the next life that we won't be privy to until we've reached that point ourselves. But what I _do_ know is that death is not finite – not in the slightest. We live in the memories of our friends and our family after we die, and in turn our tales are passed from one generation to the next – sometimes in history books, and other times in the parlor of the family homestead. And love transcends death, too – I've seen it with my very own eyes, multiple times."

"Like when Odin became an eidolon to fight by Father's side?" Ceodore asked, and Rydia blinked, pulling back slightly.

"Yes, exactly like that. Did Cecil tell you that story?"

Ceodore nodded, looking back up at the portrait. "Yes. But I also met Odin when my father – or I guess, the mysterious girl – summoned him, before you guys arrived. Even though he was fighting us, I could tell something was wrong – like an invisible force was staying his blade. I couldn't think of anything else to do but try to break his trance – so I tried to harness the light to bring him back to his senses. I don't remember what happened after that, but when I woke up, he was begging Kain to save my father. That was when he fell down, and...!" Ceodore let his words trail off into an obnoxious sniffle.

"That was _you_ that woke Odin up?" Rydia gasped, and Ceodore's eyes widened in panic, wondering if Rydia thought he had somehow hurt Odin. She shook her head, gently cupping his cheek in her hand. "Ceodore…I felt your aura when I entered the castle, which is remarkably similar to Golbez's. I didn't understand the connection at the time – but I think I do now. As Lunarians, the two of you have great powers sleeping inside of you – and if yours can invoke holy light, and that light is capable of breaking the eidolons free from their nightmares – it may mean you hold the key to waking up Cecil, as well."

"What!?" Ceodore cried. "You think my father is under the same curse as the eidolons?"

"He may very well be," Rydia frowned, pulling away. _If Ceodore holds the light under his thrall just like his father, then we may yet have a chance to save Bahamut_ _ **and**_ _Cecil!_ "Ceodore…do you still want to travel to the moon with us?"

"Yes, of course!" Ceodore crossed his arms over his chest. "I would do _anything_ to save him!"

"I'll explain everything to Rosa," Rydia said breathlessly, letting her hand drop from Ceodore's flushed cheek. "Perhaps if…"

"There's no need for that."

Rydia and Ceodore both visibly paled as Rosa's regal voice drifted across the great hall, her wooden sandals knocking against the marble as she crossed the western gallery and paused before them. Although alarmed at her sudden appearance, both Ceodore and Rydia were relieved to see that with the exception of a trace of coral swelling lining her eyes, Rosa seemed as close to her old self as she was going to get, given the circumstances. She had wrapped her hair back into a charmingly messy bun, loose strands framing her jaw, and had washed the wreckage of battle from her face. In her arms, she held an oblong, oddly-shaped packaged wrapped in what appeared to be either one of her old gowns or capes.

"Mother…" Ceodore began, but Rosa pressed a finger to her lips, silencing him. She then looked to Rydia, who flushed nervously. Her brain decided that now was a great time to replay the vicious fight Edge and Rosa had gotten into about Ceodore in the throne room, which made her stomach give birth to a colony of butterflies.

"Sorry Rosa, we weren't talking about you behind your back, I swear. I…"

"Rydia, please!" Rosa smiled weakly, and Rydia ceased her rambling, biting down on her lip to keep herself quiet. "I came down here to see if you two had returned, and to thank you. As always, you could sense what I needed before I could even properly articulate it. These past few days…they've been a nightmare. I've gone from thinking that Cecil and Ceodore were dead, to learning of Cecil's misdeeds, to finding – and losing – and then finding Kain again… And then of course, there's Golbez and Cecil…" she shook her head, sighing. "I was so happy when you burst through those doors – I knew you would save us from this madness."

"Well, without _your_ magic, I don't know if we'd be having this conversation right now," Rydia blushed. "But thank you. You're one of my best friends, Rosa – I'd do anything for you. I was so worried about you and Ceodore this whole time – I thank the gods you're both here with me now."

"And the same goes for you," Rosa nodded, bowing her head. "Which transitions wonderfully into what our next steps should be. Golbez should be back with the Lunar Whale at any moment." She turned to Ceodore, and he noticed that she was anxiously tugging on the rose gold engagement ring his father had given her when they were betrothed to wed. "Have you any word from the village, Ceodore?"

"Yes," Ceodore nodded, trying to keep the disappointment out of his tone at the sudden change of subject. "Miraculously, there were no casualties – but a lot of people were hurt and many are without safe place to lay their head tonight. The sylphs did what they could to heal the injured, but I had a word with the innkeeper and asked him to send any overflow to the castle tonight. I figured if the only person that is going to be here is me, we may as well make use of the space."

Rosa smiled warmly. "Ceodore, that was a wonderful idea. In fact, Kain is doing a sweep of the castle and the village as we speak, trying to find any guards that were spared from the mysterious girl's control or who may have fled for safety – they can assist with getting those who need help situated, and we can send the others into town to help with rebuilding. Well done, my son."

"It wasn't much," Ceodore blushed. "I just did what made sense."

"Nevertheless, you did what was right. Is your grandmother well?"

"Yeah, but she wants you to see her, like, yesterday," Ceodore raised his eyebrows. "I think she's heard the rumors about Kain's return, and she has some questions."

Rosa's lips made a weird little twist, and Ceodore caught her give Rydia a lightning-fast eye roll.

"I knew she would be all right – you've got to be tempered with steel and the fires of Hell itself to deal with gaggles of society ladies for as long as she has," Rydia giggled, and Rosa laughed along with her.

"I don't get it," Ceodore tilted his head, and Rosa laughed harder before shaking her head.

"You'll understand when you're a bit older dear. At any rate, after Kain helped your father get settled in his chambers, I did some treasure hunting and found this." She handed the swaddled package to Ceodore, who raised his eyebrows as he took it into his arms. His knees bowed slightly beneath its unexpected weight, and he quickly steadied himself as Rydia and Rosa both watched him anxiously. Assuming by the looks on their faces that it was OK to open it now, he unwrapped the swaths of fabric, letting them spill in a pool of silk on the floor as the flickering light of the sconces running down the hall caught the sheen of what appeared to be a brilliant-cut diamond nestled in a bed of platinum.

"Huh…?" Ceodore murmured under his breath as he pulled back another layer, revealing the hilt of a sword melding into a blade that looked as if it had been dipped in starlight. He cautiously lifted the sword, letting the last of the fabric fall and revealing a crystalline blade that had a miniature galaxy encased in its core, glittering black and silver ore spreading to the blade's edge until it faded into transparent glass. Along the curve of the blade, Ceodore could make out a few words – when he brought it closer to catch the light, he realized it was the Mysidian Legend, replicated word for word. He gazed up at Rosa wondrously, who to his surprise had twin trails of tears running down her cheeks.

"Mother, what is this blade?" Ceodore asked, gingerly giving it a swing and marveling at what a natural fit it seemed to have in his hands. "It's breathtaking!"

"It's the Sword of Legend given to your father upon the completion of his trial to become a paladin," Rosa explained. "As a gift, a legendary smithy in the Underworld recast it for him with Adamantite, the strongest ore in the world – and it has been known since as _Excalibur_."

"THIS is Excalibur!?" Ceodore gasped, tracing his finger over the fine curves of the manuscript carved within. "I've always heard so much about it, but I didn't think it actually existed since I never saw Father use it – it just seemed like one of those tall tales that gets passed around a battalion when you're not talking about women or the biggest monster you've killed."

"It's quite real," Rosa giggled softly, and Ceodore's heart soared when he realized she was laughing the same way she had used to before everything had turned upside down – he supposed he hadn't given her much to laugh about since the night he had announced he was trying out for the Red Wings, which felt like a lifetime ago now. Rosa gripped her arm, her gaze drifting back up from the blade to Ceodore's eyes.

"Your father has always talked about giving you this sword when the time was right. And I believe in my heart of hearts that if he had the capability, he would agree with me that that time is now. You left Baron as a prince, but you've returned home as a knight – and not just a Red Wing, but someone with a heart as valiant and true as any hero I've ever known. You've learned the power of compassion and empathy for your friends and subjects, and now understand that true strength doesn't just come from a title or the tales people tell about you – it's tempered by the courage to do what's right, even when it's the hardest path to take."

Ceodore lowered the blade, his eyes stinging as he looked up at Rosa. "Mother…you speak too highly of me. All I wanted was to somehow get back to you and Father – even though the path was difficult, I tread it out of selfish desire to be with you again. Does someone like that really deserve this blade?"

Rosa tilted her head. "Have you already forgotten what happened in the antechamber or in the battle with Odin? Without your strength, I don't think Kain would have been able to defeat the dark dragoon, which he freely admits. Besides, he filled me in on all of your adventures together – he regards you _very_ highly, my dear. And I trust Kain's word as much as if I had witnessed it with my own eyes."

"Kain never says anything nice about anyone," Rydia added. "Except for Cecil and Rosa, but that's only when they're not irritating the hell out of him, which was fairly rare in our time together. If Kain, the legendary ex-captain of the Baronian Dragoons paid you a compliment, you'd better treat it as the high praise it is!"

Ceodore shook his head in disbelief, and Rosa pressed her lips together. "You asked me to be reasonable before, right? I've reconsidered some things. I remember how terribly I felt when your father disregarded my desire to take my own fate into my hands and play my part to save our world – I won't repeat that again with my own son. If you're going to be coming with us to the moon, I'll be counting on you to keep us safe with that blade – none of us know what will be waiting this time."

"…Mother!" Ceodore gasped, quickly sheathing Excalibur and throwing his arms around her waist. She hugged him back tightly, glancing at Rydia over Ceodore's head. Rydia gave her a wink, and Rosa winked back before leaning in to kiss Ceodore's forehead. Ceodore pulled back, his face flushed with happiness.

"…So Father seriously tried to tell you "no" about something?" he grinned, and Rydia let out a low laugh.

"He thought he was being cool, but Rosa put him in his place pretty quickly. First there was the fight when he made us get off the Lunar Whale, but none of those fools thought to check to make sure we had actually left…"

"The co-fools being Kain and Edge," Rosa added, and Rydia nodded.

"Then when we surprised them, there was fight number two."

"Which was much tamer," Rosa said. "He even walked away with all of his limbs."

"But the last fight in the barracks was the best one," Rydia whistled. "It was loud enough that it woke me up from a dead sleep."

Rosa had started to laugh, but paused when it finally clicked what Rydia had actually said, and turned an odd shade of white. She whirled around to face Rydia, her lower lip quivering.

"Y…You heard us arguing in the rooms?"

"Sure did," Rydia blinked. "Pretty sure the entire ship heard – you were yelling really loud. But I remember things quieting down pretty quickly…I figured Kain or Edge had told you guys to break it up."

"…Oh my," Rosa gulped, pressing her hand to her mouth. Ceodore looked to Rydia, and then Rosa, and you could practically see the giant question mark materializing above his head. Rydia shook her head as if to say _"What's the big deal?"_. It wasn't like Rosa was one of those people who liked to pretend everything was perfect all the time and keep up appearances – that would be a trademark of her mother. And with the amount of time the five of them had spent together throughout the war, there were days where they all argued with each other far more than they actually talked.

But then Rydia took another look at the shock that had taken hold of Rosa's features, and she suddenly stiffened, the blood draining from her face and her eyes growing as large as saucers. _Ding!_ The light bulb had finally gone off.

"…Well I guess now I know why you were in such a _good_ mood the next morning," Rydia simpered, and Rosa turned so red that it looked as if she had stuck her head into an oven. Which, ironically, didn't seem like such a bad idea at the moment.

"Can we not discuss this here?" Rosa begged, and Ceodore took a hesitant step backwards. His Lunarian instincts, as dampened as they normally seemed to be when compared to Cecil's, were telling him that this was one secret he did _not_ want to be let in on.

"Sure, maybe we can talk when we're on the Lunar Whale," Rydia smirked. "Just be sure to take _that_ room when we board so you can spare us all your indignity."

"Oh, honestly!" Rosa huffed, throwing her hands in the air. "Act your age!"

"Hmmmph! Which one!?"

"…What are they arguing about?" a bemused voice asked behind Ceodore, and he spun around, never so grateful in his life to see Kain – or any male, really – standing behind him.

"I haven't the foggiest idea," Ceodore frowned. "But good news – I'm coming with you guys to the moon!"

"That's great," Kain smiled, although it didn't reach his eyes. "Because our ride is here."

* * *

Awakening the eidolons, breaking into Baron castle, or navigating for their lives in a meteor storm that had seemingly covered the entire span of the planet did nothing to prepare the party for the mass chaos of preparing a battleship for departure to space with twenty people and two dolls that needed to be navigated aboard.

As promised, Golbez had returned to Baron with the Lunar Whale, accompanied by Luca, whom Edge had insisted on staying on board with him when they had originally reached the ship in Golbez's hiding place, which had turned out to be the northern isles not far away from Agart. Golbez had picked up on the fact pretty quickly that he was being assigned a dwarven princess nanny, but decided to be the bigger man and let Edge think he was somehow being effective. Luca, for her part, had been absolutely thrilled – she spent the entire ride back pouring over the Lunar Whale's specs and asking the crystal of flight increasingly absurd questions until Golbez ordered it to ignore her. However, a very small part of him was grateful that Luca's loyalties had remained untainted by the revelation of his identity – she was treating him exactly the same as she had had before everything went to hell in Baron, and also not overcompensating for Edge's attitude by being sickeningly nice, either.

 _…But considering she has an incredibly obvious crush on that goblin of a black mage, it may also just be that she has really poor taste in friends. So I think I will chalk up her tolerance of me to that…_

He listened disjointedly as Luca flipped on a monitor, squealing in excitement at the map of the cosmos Golbez had last pulled up on his journey to the Blue Planet – he noticed right away that the Red Moon was no longer on the screen, and felt a sharp tug in his chest.

 _Fusoya...where are you? Can you hear me or Cecil...?_

By the time they had landed, the Falcon close behind, Golbez found himself on the brink of what he was fairly sure was a full-blown panic attack. The thought of facing all of the people on the Falcon that would soon be pouring onto the Lunar Whale, only this time all of them privy to his true name, made him want to simultaneously vomit and crawl into the nearest hole to rot. Luca had run off the ship to see if any of the injured parties on the Falcon needed help and to retrieve her dolls. Golbez even dreaded looking Calca and Brina into their dead, automaton-like eyes – his minions had even laid grievous sins against inanimate objects belonging to an innocent child.

When he finally heard the telltale shrill of one of the ship's automatic doors sliding open, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest so powerfully that he was sure it would leap out and splatter among the lit-up dashboard before him. His eyes flicked up to the small monitor to his left that would reveal to him a few milliseconds early which of his former victims would be joining him before they had crossed the threshold to the bridge. The flash of a winged headband appeared on the monitor, and he felt his body sag in relief as he whirled around and came face-to-face with Kain...

…Who was holding Cecil's slumped body against his chest.

"…What's this?" Golbez asked, arching an eyebrow, and Kain frowned.

"Well…we can't just leave him here. If we do find a way to help him on the moon, we'll want him to be as close as possible, right?"

"…Right," Golbez relented, and Kain stared at him for a few beats, both men leaving the rest of their thoughts unsaid.

 _By the time this was all over, we may not even have a planet to return to – anyone not on this ship could be very well lost forever._

Finally, Golbez turned away, pretending to busy himself with something on the dashboard. "You remember where the beds are from last time, right? There are rejuvenation pods in the same area that act similarly to the pods the sleeping Lunarians are kept in on the Red Moon. He'll probably be safest in one of those."

"Got it," Kain said tersely, carrying Cecil away without further comment. A few moments later, Ceodore bounded on board, followed by Rosa, Rydia, and Edge. Edge marched straight past Golbez, heading down the same path Kain had taken, and Rosa and Rydia approached Golbez. Ceodore was distracted by the flashing, glaring lights that had blinded him at first glance, and nearly tripped over the platform that contained the crystal of flight.

"Thank you for doing this," Rosa said softly, and Golbez watched her eyes from the blank monitor before him. She lifted her head, her gaze meeting his in the darkened glass, and he sighed. He supposed she wasn't going to go away until he said something.

"Are you doing OK?"

"Much better now," Rosa replied uneasily, and Golbez spied Ceodore, who was now leaning against the guardrails that surrounded the crystal and staring up at it wondrously.

 _I still can't believe it…for another Lunarian to be walking among us in this age…it's nothing short of a miracle._

"The boy is coming too?"

"Yes…Ceo – er, your nephew, is coming too. If you wanted to talk with him, I could…"

"That's not necessary for the time being," Golbez replied, although he tried his best not to sound so gruff about it. "We've got to focus on getting everyone on board and start putting an attack strategy together. It's one thing to say we're just going to fly to the moon and take back the crystals, but actually executing is a different story. This is the first time all of you will be in one place, right? It's going to be like herding cats."

"Right, of course," Rosa replied dully, and Rydia cleared her throat.

"The others are disembarking from the Falcon now with Calca and Brina's help. Luca ran back to Baron Village to fetch Cid. It won't be long before everyone is here. Should I start directing them to the common area?"

"I think that would be best," Golbez said. "It's going to be the only space big enough to accommodate all of us at once."

"I'm on it!" Rydia smiled, when a loud shout broke out from the rear of the ship – it sounded like Kain's voice. Ceodore turned toward the noise, his voice wobbling as the golden light from the crystal of flight ignited a burst of prisms in his startled gaze.

"Father!? Father!"

"Kain!" Rosa gasped, and the four of them broke into a run across the bridge, Golbez sprinting ahead of them to lead to where he had told Kain to drop off Cecil. In a chamber past the commons, where the first wall of private dormitories stood, Kain and Edge were standing over one of the polished glass and steel pods, which had its enclosure dome still open, staring into the pod like they had both seen a ghost.

"What's wrong?" Ceodore asked, and ran to the front of the pod, shoving his way between Kain and Edge. Cecil was staring up at the three of them blankly, his pupils shrunk to nearly nothing. Other than the steady, but shallow rise and fall of his chest, he didn't make any other movements – and Ceodore had no idea what exactly it was he was looking at. Other than Kain and Edge, there was nothing behind them but a shiny, white, glass wall.

"Cecil!" Rosa whispered, approaching behind Ceodore and raising her hand to see if Cecil would react. As he continued to stare into oblivion, Cecil slowly sat up, his fingers clutching the side of the pod so tightly that his knuckles swelled with distress.

"Has he finally regained his senses?" Edge blinked, and Rydia finally weaseled her way into the audience too, peering over Ceodore's other shoulder since he was the only person shorter than her. When she saw Cecil sitting up, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, a small smile curling on her lips.

"Oh, thank goodness..."

But Cecil still didn't say anything, and didn't acknowledge any of their presences. After a few more moments, Golbez leaned over the side of the pod; gently taking hold of Cecil's straining hand and dropping it back into his lap. This too, elicited no feedback – so Kain did the same with his other hand, and they all watched wordlessly as Cecil merely continued to stare past them, unblinking.

"Cecil?" Rosa tried again, this time with far less enthusiasm. Ceodore bit his lip, reaching into the pod and gently shaking Cecil's shoulder.

"Father? Father!?"

Cecil's head lolled gently, his hair tumbling over his shoulders.

Finally, Kain let out a sigh and shook his head. "Give it up. Sorry for the false alarm."

Ceodore turned toward him, swallowing the lump caught in his throat. "But…what's happened to my father? Why is he awake, but not responding? How can he even be _moving_ in this state?"

Kain could feel his back teeth grinding in frustration as he looked away. "I'm sorry, Ceodore…I just don't know. One minute he was just lying there, and then all of a sudden his eyes snapped open. Maybe it has something to do with being back on the Lunar Whale, but…the man before you right now is nothing but an empty shell."

"Why…?" Ceodore whimpered, turning back to his father's vacant stare and taking hold of his hand. His fingers were still so cold against his own – Ceodore couldn't possibly imagine how any kind of bodily chemistry was happening at all inside of him now. Golbez shook his head, turning away just as he heard a new set of footsteps crossing the bridge and a shout from a still-unfamiliar voice asking where everybody was. He took a long, silent breath, leaving the others behind as he began to make his way back toward the front of the ship. Suddenly, he no longer cared how the rest of Cecil's friends would react to it being his face that would welcome to them to possibly the last airship ride they would ever take.

The fact of the matter was, he was alive and functioning enough to be able to process whatever they might throw his way, no matter how deeply their cold words or pitiful looks might cut him – that was the ugly side of atoning for one's sins, after all. But his little brother – the benevolent, kindhearted, valiant soul of the two "half-breeds", as that wretched girl had called them, no longer had a choice in what he could do or feel – he couldn't smile when his son called his name, couldn't kiss his wife, couldn't joke with his best friend – so how could Golbez possibly feel anything but shame for wanting to throw away everything he hated about living his life – those _messy, painful emotions_ – that Cecil was now cruelly denied?

 _…What did that girl do to him!?_ Golbez glowered, slamming his fist against the sensor for the door that would take him to the bridge. The metal door shot upward with a gentle purr, Golbez's vision blurring as his eyes were once again invaded by the pulsing bridge lights he had still not quite gotten used to. But really…would he ever be able to truly live in a light-filled world again? Was his soul still so stained in darkness that it would be an impossibility, even if he truly longed for it?

 _Edge…you asked in the throne room why I came back, after seventeen painful years of nightmares. Would it satisfy you, or perhaps enrage you further, to know that my answer would not have just been "for Cecil"?_

 _I have come back for one single reason: to stop the moon that threatens us all. This goes beyond redemption, or revenge, or even the Blue Planet itself..._

 _And I will do whatever it takes to reach my goal – even if it costs my life._


	33. Act Thirty-Three: The Crystals' Tale

Act Thirty-Three: The Crystals' Tale | The Reborn

"And what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

Golbez flinched as Edge's gravelly shout filled the bridge, wondering what he had possibly done in the last five minutes that would have pissed Edge off again (other than existing). When he looked up from the static-plagued radar he had been investigating, he saw the Eblan Four standing in the entryway to the bridge – the apparent target of Edge's ire. They had been the last of the Falcon's former passengers to board the ship – he had forced himself to prepare the Lunar Whale for takeoff while the others had come aboard, since time was of the essence, and Ceodore would not be of any use – he was still despondently draped over Cecil's pod, as dead to the world as his father.

If there had been even a sliver of doubt in the back of his mind that Edge hadn't spilled the beans about his identity to the others as soon as he and Luca had stepped off the Falcon, it was obliterated by the filthy look Palom had bestowed upon him as he limped his way onto the ship, Leonora and Porom slinking behind him, their eyes cast aside. He said nothing as Rydia quickly ushered them inside, and continued to say nothing as the others followed. The kindest, if you were to stretch the definition of that word, reaction he received was from Yang, who gave him a curt nod. Golbez could tell that Ursula, who was at her father's side, was desperate to lay her fists into something, but she kept her gaze locked straight ahead on the back of her father's head, probably meditating her way out of murderous thoughts.

Despite Edge's harsh tone and the smoke that was pouring out of his ears, none of the ninjas looked particularly chastised. Golbez went back to what he was doing, his hair falling over his face like a protective barrier as he half-listened in on their conversation.

"We talked it over, Master," Gekkou said, his eyes even more squinted than usual thanks to the blinding lights – Golbez wondered how the heck the Eblan Four's leader could see where he was walking, let alone fight on a regular basis.

"And we've decided we're accompanying you," Izayoi added, popping a curvy hip as she raised an eyebrow. Edge rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't try any of that seductive stuff with me, Izayoi. I thought you said you didn't want to be treated like a woman anymore?"

"Who said I was trying anything!?" Izayoi huffed. "If I _were_ trying, you wouldn't even know it – you'd be on your knees, begging for more!"

"Whoa, this is getting a little beyond age-appropriate," Tsukinowa groaned, covering his ears. "Besides, I don't think Master Edge's girlfriend would like any of this talk."

"Master Edge's _what_?" Rydia hissed from behind Edge, where she had been quietly lingering. She found herself reaching for her whip, eyes flashing like a python readying for the kill. Edge whirled around, his voice catching in his throat as she pressed up against him, pushing the whip into an arch with her bare hands and quickly pulling it taut, a loud "crack" exploding in the air. "What kind of stories have you been telling them?"

"N-None!" Edge cried, raising his hands in the air in surrender. "Honest!" He glared back at the ninjas, who were staring at them, all with identical smirks on their faces. "The _only_ thing I've told them is that they are _not_ going with us to the new moon. I'm sure that as we speak, the Seneschal is mere moments away from wetting himself. So book it out of here and go take the Falcon back to Eblan, or something!"

"Don't you dare steal my ship!" Luca shouted from the common room, and Edge reddened.

"Does every woman I know have supersonic hearing?"

"When you are talking about them, it is an ability that is guaranteed to manifest itself," Zangetsu smiled. "But, Master, back to our discussion…"

"There is no discussion!" Edge protested. "I already told you guys back on the Falcon – this is the outer limits. The beyond the beyond. The final frontier…"

"…What are you going on about?" Tsukinowa blinked, and Edge stomped his foot against the grates.

"Are you guys even listening to me?"

"Yes, of course," Gekkou frowned. "But would you calm that obnoxious temper of yours and listen to us, for a change?"

Edge's eyes widened, and he pulled down his cowl, revealing a very confused flat line where his mouth should have been. He was either going into shock at actually being called out for his attitude by Gekkou for the first time since the two of them had completed their trial together as classmates, or physically restraining himself from saying anything unkingly that he knew he would just end up regretting later while half-drowned in a bottle of Bacchus Wine.

Gekkou took Edge's silence as consent to continue, and jutted his thumb back toward the others, who were standing behind him, silent as shadows.

"Master, we realize your intentions are to keep us safe. But it's an insult to our role in all of this – not just as your loyal servants, but as citizens of the planet itself – to refuse our request to join you. I don't know what will become of us once we reach this new moon…all I know is that I will regret every day I wake for the rest of my life, no matter how long or short that might be, if I had not least attempted to make things right."

"I've lived a long and fruitful life, Master," Zangetsu bowed his head. "But alongside my greatest triumphs have also been devastating tragedies. I can't bring myself to let any more pain soak into Eblan's roots as she continues to blossom under your reign. Losing you would be like losing Rai all over again. I've taken up arms in his stead so that his love for his home nation could live on; although I know at heart I am an unworthy vessel. Are you really willing to deny me this?"

 _Rai…_ Golbez flinched when he heard the agony dripping from Zangetsu's voice. _Was that someone you lost because of me, along with Edge's parents?_

"…Come on!" Edge frowned, shaking his head. "You and Gekkou may be ancient entities willing to throw away your lives, but what about Izayoi and Tsukinowa over here? They're young and actually have something to live for. You're going to drag them into all of this?"

"…I'm the same age as you," Gekkou hissed as Izayoi snaked her arm around Tsukinowa's shoulders, pressing him gently into her side.

"We made this decision together," Izayoi said. "And it wasn't just a few minutes ago, while we were on the Falcon…"

"…It was made when we pledged ourselves to Eblan!" Tsukinowa exclaimed. "You've given us the finest training we could have ever hoped for, Master. Now is the time to use it! Everyone else is working so hard, like Lady Porom…" He blushed a little, and Izayoi pressed a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. "...I want to show the world – and this stupid moon – what Eblan's got. It's my future, and I wanna fight for it."

"You don't have to go at this alone anymore," Gekkou stepped forward, sweeping into a low bow. "Never again, Your Highness." Zangetsu, Izayoi, and Tsukinowa followed suit, lowering themselves to one knee behind Gekkou.

Edge turned away, clutching his fists at his side as he lowered his gaze. Rydia peered up at him, silently brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes and eying the ghostly white of the scar slashed across his brow. Golbez crossed his arms over his chest, a grunt of protest escaping his throat before he could stop himself. The five ninjas looked up at him surprise, and Rydia snatched her hand back, a fierce blush racing across her cheeks.

"Edge, how is what they are doing any different than what you are doing for Cecil?" Golbez asked. "Can you look them in the eyes and proclaim that you are doing this solely for Eblan? Maybe there's a small, selfish part of you that wants to protect your friends as well, regardless of the consequences that decision delivers upon you? If that's the case, let them support your foolery and put an end to this charade."

"You have no right…" Edge growled, and Rydia gently smacked his cheek with three extended fingers, clicking her tongue.

"Regardless of whether or not he has the right…does he misspeak?"

"Tch," Edge swatted Rydia's hand away, throwing one last death glare at Golbez before turning back to Gekkou and the others, his back teeth grinding so hard that even Golbez could hear the sickening crunch from where he was standing – it made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. "In case you've come down with a conveniently timed case of amnesia, allow me to remind you that as your king, my word is the law. These are my final orders to you: Go home. Protect Eblan from what is to come. Save _yourselves_."

"Master…" Izayoi began, but Edge whirled around, lowering his head as he briskly made his way back to the commons, the metal door sliding shut with a striking finality behind him. Tsukinowa let out a pitiful moan as he looked up at his elder cousin, who in turn was staring open-mouthed at Gekkou. Zangetsu crossed his arms, letting out a low whistle. Gekkou shook his head, offering Rydia a sad smile as he turned back the way they had come, disappearing through the threshold. Zangetsu, Izayoi and Tsukinowa all reluctantly followed, heads hanging. Rydia thought she heard Tsukinowa mutter a quiet "Good-Bye", but before she could say anything back, he was gone.

She turned to Golbez as the door slid shut behind the Eblan Four, her eyebrows raised. His clouded gaze met hers, daring her to say anything about his interference with Edge's little power trip. The truth was, Edge probably really had just saved his guards' lives by issuing his final mandate, but it didn't mean that Golbez agreed with his hypocrisy. Rydia opened her mouth, but paused, thinking better of whatever it was she was going to say and quickly changing the subject from what they had just witnessed.

"That should be everyone."

"Very well," Golbez nodded, finalizing the coordinates of their target – that shuddersome moon – with a final click of a button. The dashboard burst into a rainbow of lights, blinking in distinct patterns as a pillar of light opened below the crystal of flight, filling the room with resplendent golden beams. Rydia gazed upon it with trepidation, her mind falling back in time to when she had first journeyed on this vessel with Cecil and the others – never in her life did she think she would be partnering with Cecil's estranged brother, and former enemy of the planet, on a strikingly similar mission years later. Golbez's voice boomed throughout the bridge, breaking the nostalgic sway the crystal's light held over her mind.

"Crystal of flight, awaken."

"Default overrides have been disabled. Awaiting your command, Theodor, son of Kluya." He flinched when he heard that dreaded name spoken by the sterile, robotic voice, but didn't let his tone waver. Rydia didn't say a word, for which he was grateful.

"…Take us to the coordinates I've entered."

"…Command received. Setting coordinates for the True Moon. Approximate travel time is unknown. Cosmogonic interference is preventing me from calculating the route."

"…The True Moon?" Golbez and Rydia asked aloud at the same time, both turning toward each other as they spoke. For an instant, Golbez saw the crystal of flight's glare flicker a warning red in the reflection of Rydia's eyes, but when he blinked, it had disappeared, leaving Rydia staring up at him questioningly.

* * *

The commons fell quiet when the door slid open, the pulsing lights that lined the dormitory hall casting the shadow of Kain's wyvern wings across the floor. As he scanned the room, he could see Porom and Ursula, who were sitting next to each other, staring up at him warily and subtly pressing into each other. On Ursula's opposite side sat Yang; his cannon-like arms crossed over his burly chest, and on Porom's opposite side sat her twin Palom, who looked as if he could spit nails on command. A sinking feeling clenched Kain's stomach as he met each of their gazes. Being that they hailed from the domains of the Wind and Water Crystals, respectively, he had a terrible suspicion that the dark dragoon had left his mark on them in some capacity when he had seized the crystals. He still couldn't remember a thing, and had barely recognized any of them as it was – Harley, ever the diplomat, had been generous enough to give each person's name to Kain after she had proceeded to introduce herself. As much as his heart both ached for and feared to know the truth, there was just simply no time to rehash recent events. He had heard the engines of the Lunar Whale roaring to life as he had stood over Cecil and the mourning Ceodore, which must have meant everyone had assembled and that Golbez was readying their approach to the moon. The time to come up with a plan was running short – soon they would be ripped away from the atmosphere of their planet and plunged into a new oblivion.

Standing dead opposite of him across the room was Golbez and Rydia, who had entered only moments before and hadn't bothered to find a seat. They were standing a good foot apart, twin looks of concern knitted into their brows as they stared wordlessly through Kain.

Rosa, who felt as if she could reach into the air and ball up the tension in her hands, it was so palpably ripe – stood from her seat. What came next made it obvious what the group had been talking about before he had walked in.

"Is…is Cecil…?"

"No change," Kain frowned, and Rosa's face crumpled in disappointment. "Ceodore is keeping an eye on him."

"…How could this have happened?"

Ursula had pulled herself to the edge of her seat, her eyes narrowed as she barked the question. Kain knew that she directly blaming him with her words – oh yes, he had surely done something unforgivable to her when he had acquired the Wind Crystal – there would be no other reason she would immediately jump to such an attitude with someone who was otherwise a stranger. "Uncle Cecil…he can't be…None of this makes sense!"

 _"Uncle"? So she was close to him…she's so young; Cecil has surely been part of her life for as long as she has been alive…_

 _Something I can't say for myself any longer._

"Ursula…" Yang shook his head. "Please. I'm sure they did all they could to save him…"

"No, she is right to ask the question," Kain sighed, and both Yang and Ursula looked up in surprise. "I'm sure you've all discussed at length the trials of these past few days, and have come to the same conclusion as I – the newest threat to the crystals infiltrated us quickly and stealthily, and they have an army of what are seemingly unlimited bodies. It's no wonder everything has happened as swiftly as it did – the mysterious girl was most likely in multiple places at once thanks to her many copies, and she had the perfect blueprint for executing her plans."

"…Blueprint?" Edward blinked. "And what would that be?"

"The _past_."

This sent a wave of murmuring throughout the room. Ursula slumped back in her seat, pressing her palm to her forehead and biting her lip. Palom jumped up, jamming his hands onto his hips.

"So you're saying that everything is happening the same way as it did seventeen years ago because this chick wants a repeat performance of the war? How would she even know what happened back then? She's not a human or a Lunarian, right? So what does she know about any of us?"

"It's hard to guess _how_ she knew manipulating Baron would get her to her goal," Kain shook his head. "But it's undeniable what has occurred, isn't it? There are too many repeated patterns to write these events off as coincidences."

"…And she may have been around longer than we think," Edge crossed his legs, folding his hands behind his head. "Do you really not remember, Palom and Porom? Think hard, back to sixteen years ago. Anything strange happen that seems to be repeating itself now?"

Palom and Porom stared at each other quizzically for a few moments, not breathing a word. Suddenly, it was as if someone had ignited a torch behind their eyes. They let out simultaneous gasps, whirling around in their seats to face Rydia and shouting in unison.

"The girl who attacked us with eidolons in the Tower of Babil!"

"…Right," Edge nodded as Rydia grasped her arm, gazing down at the floor.

"But Rydia killed her," Palom said, and Rydia slowly shook her head.

"…Perhaps not."

"But then what has she been doing this whole time?" Porom pressed her cheek against her palm, staring up at the ceiling in thought. "It still all feels rather sudden. And Cecil has certainly been normal only until very recently…right Rosa?"

"Yes," Rosa nodded, trying her best to swallow back the tears that were edging in at just the thought of what "normalcy" had once been like with Cecil and Ceodore. "Normal" felt like a million years ago – maybe even just a long dream that had finally dovetailed into a living nightmare.

"So we just have to take a page out of her book and invade her moon, eh?" Luca tapped her foot impatiently. "Find the crystals, use 'em to heal Cecil, and then…"

A loud burst of static erupted in the bridge, causing half the room to jump. Harley looked to Edward, who had whirled around in his chair.

"My lord, that sounds like…"

"Indeed. That would be whisperweed."

"Whisper-what?" Leonora half-whimpered. She would feel terribly stupid if she was the only one out of the loop – as it was, it seemed that most everyone in this room had a history with each other, and she was just some random girl Palom had brought along. Palom leaned in, quickly summarizing just exactly what it was they were talking about in a hushed whisper. She still had so many questions about what exactly was going on and who all these people were, but decided to ask Palom when things were less chaotic.

 _I hope he doesn't regret bringing me…I have to be strong, for Troia's sake!_

"I salvaged the flowers from Cecil's throne room before we left," Edward explained. "I thought it might be a good way to keep tabs on what is happening back home." He leapt up, dashing past Rydia and Golbez to enter the bridge. A few moments later, the door slid back open at his return, the king now carrying a bouquet of tall, but otherwise unremarkable flowers. Broken, choppy voices were crackling out of the blooms, and Leonora thought it sounded as if someone were shouting at her from very far away – perhaps across a canyon.

"Hello? How are things down below?" Edward spoke into the bouquet. There was more static-like noise, which quickly became apparent to the observers that it was actually something else entirely – raging winds.

An elderly man's voice finally managed to break through, and Harley recognized it as belonging to the Damcyan Chancellor. "The moon's advance...severe winds...shows no sign of..." A whistling gale sent another wave of broken audio through the blooms. Edward looked up from the bouquet, his face paling.

"It's all being caused by the moon. With the crystals missing, there's nothing left to sustain the balance of the elements on our planet. Collect yourself, my friend! Stay calm, and get everyone to someplace safe!"

"We don't...keep...of...trong to...where...Edw...need...ou..."

There was a final ear-piercing howl of wind that sounded like a shrieking chorus of banshees, and then suddenly, the line went dead. Edward lowered the bouquet, letting out a shaky sigh.

"We've lost them," Yang shook his head.

"The whisperweed only has so much range to it, y'know," Cid frowned. "It was a nice idea, though…"

"What could be happening down on the surface right now?" Porom muttered, and Palom shrugged.

"It's the moon's gravitational pull that's driving everything crazy."

"The moon's gravitational pull?" Luca asked, and Palom glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Everybody knows how the moon affects the tides...but it works its will on other things, too. I've heard theories that the moon can affect the hearts and minds of animals...and people, for that matter. It even affects the potency of certain types of magic."

"And that goes double for this moon, no doubt," Cid added. "Just look at how enormous this thing is. With somethin' that big so close to our planet, who could guess what'll happen down there?"

"It may not be a matter of just being "close" to our planet before long," Palom added, and Luca bit her lip, remembering how crazy the monsters had suddenly gotten in the Underworld just days ago, when the moon was still a respectable distance away.

"You think it'll keep on going?"

"Like it will collide with our planet!?" Yang grimaced, and Cid popped out his pipe, slowly running his tongue over his teeth.

"That might be the best-case scenario, now that I think about it. I thought perhaps the enemy was just trying to get close enough to make contact beyond that army of girls. More likely the moon would swallow our planet whole, given enough time. If the gravitational pull is intense enough, it could give birth to a black hole, and…"

"No!" Porom shrieked, thinking of how she had left the Elder behind in his sick bed at his insistence – like he had _known_ something like this might happen. _Not like this…Elder, I didn't want to be cast out into the world only to leave you behind…!_

Cid stuck his pipe back between his teeth, gnashing them against the clicking lacquer stormily. "We've got to get the crystals back and use them to change the moon's path! And quick!"

The cabin lights abruptly dimmed to a menacing crimson, shrill alarms erupting over the ship's in-wall speakers as a powerful shudder rolled through, the sound of screaming metal being torn asunder reverberating from the depths of black space.

"Aaagh!" Porom screamed, tumbling out of her chair just as Palom dove down to grab her, pulling her against him. She smiled up at him gratefully, not noticing as he reached back and discreetly snatched Leonora's hand, the Epopt's eyes widening in conflicting confusion and relief.

"What is it now!?" Yang gasped, and Luca quickly punched a few buttons into the wall that she had discovered during her initial run-through of the ship, illuminating a monitor behind them with a blinding blast of silver light. The camera that fed the monitor appeared to be positioned at the rear of the ship upon the fluke-like stern, capturing the vibrating and crumpling bow as it was pulled ever-closer toward the silver pool.

"The Lunar Whale... Something's pulling on it!"

"The moon is trying to gobble up our ship!" Cid cried, and another loud groan discharged, metal crunching around them like a tin can being crushed beneath one's boot.

"What's going on!?" Edge hissed, stumbling forward as he rose from his seat. It felt as if his clothes were made of magnets and that he was being drawn forward by an invincible force – it took everything he had just to keep his feet planted on the floor.

"The moon has seized our ship!" Yang grabbed Ursula, despite her squirming protests.

"We're being pulled in!" Porom whimpered against Palom's chest, and Cid and Luca took hold of each other's arms to keep their balance in the shuddering chamber.

"Golbez, Luca, prepare for emergency landing!" Cid barked, and they nodded, Golbez turning to release the door to the bridge and Luca scrambling after him. Rydia pushed herself up against a wall next to the door panel, her eyes wild. Everyone else was scrambling to take cover on the floor, kicking away the furniture that wasn't bolted to the ground so that it wouldn't crush them. Even Calca and Brina were kneeling; eyes scrunched shut as they protected their ears from the shrieking sirens that were scrambling their logic circuits.

"Damn it!" Edge grunted, his eyes catching Rosa as she fled the cabin and rushed into the dorms, zooming right past a stunned Kain who had been thrown into the wall from another lurch of the ship. After a few moments, she let out a high-pitched howl, the Lunar Whale heaving forward dramatically and causing a cascade of chairs to smash into the northern wall, only inches away from pinning Rydia's legs.

"Cecil…!" Rosa's cry echoed into the commons, and Edge leapt over a huddled Edward and Harley and stopped near the door to extend his hand to Kain. The dragoon pulled himself up, both men rushing after Rosa through the dormitory as another scream greeted them, this one most definitely male. _Had Ceodore gotten hurt or trapped?_

" _Now_ what?" Edge huffed, and Kain could only shake his head, words failing him as his lungs threatened to burst in his chest.

In the dorm, Ceodore and Rosa were kneeling next to Cecil's pod, clinging on for dear life as the Lunar Whale retched itself back and forth in a dizzying barrage. Cecil was flat on his back once more, but his eyes were wide-open and staring into nothingness above as he thrashed about helplessly, screaming at the top of his lungs in long, raspy exhalations. "Ugh….Aaaaughhh! AHHHHH!"

"Father!?" Ceodore cried, ducking his head as Cecil's flailing fist came flying toward him. Kain slid behind Ceodore, and Edge behind Rosa, grabbing the pair's respective shoulders for balance.

"Cecil!?" Kain blinked, not believing what was transpiring before him. Cecil ignored his call, his hands slamming into his skull and his fingers twitching in his knotted hair as he arched his back and released another miserable wail.

"Gaaahhh!"

"Father!" Ceodore tried to haul himself up to get closer, but his feet slipped from beneath as the ship bounced recklessly against _something_ , sending him careening against the side of the pod and knocking him out cold with a loud "thump". A streak of red erupted across his forehead as Kain knelt down to cover him, pulling the limp boy into his chest.

"Cecil!" Rosa whimpered, and in response he greeted her with another blood-chilling screech that blared even louder than the ship's alarms.

"It's getting worse the closer we are to the moon..." Kain trailed off, a disturbing cracking noise from above interrupting his thoughts. The last thing he saw when he glanced up was a cascade of white rushing over him, and a burst of stars erupting in his vision before his conscious drifted to the void.

* * *

Golbez had given in to desperate curiosity and flicked on the monitors that recorded the dormitory activity, wanting to make sure Ceodore and Cecil weren't in any immediate danger. He had given the reins of the Lunar Whale to Luca, commanding that the crystal of flight return them to manual controls, and she was staring intensely out the dash before her, trying her best to wrestle them out of the gravity-induced traps in which they had been ensnared once they had unknowingly pierced the moon's orbit. Golbez watched on-camera as Rosa stumbled into the room, the ear piece he held against his head suddenly bursting into a chorus of familiar, agony-ridden screams that made his heart stop. Moments later, Kain and Edge appeared as well, the screams continuing to rise with each passing, tortured second. It was clear they were coming from the pod in the center of the room – Golbez could see through the screen that none of the room's other occupants had their mouths open long enough to release such terrible noises.

 _Cecil! What are you fighting against!?_

"Almost out…" Luca chewed on her lip in frustration, giving the virtual steering wheel within the monitor before her a final, vicious yank to the left by swiping her palm across the screen. A thunderous crash exploded in Golbez's ear, and he watched in horror as the monitor containing Cecil shorted out, gifting him with taunting black and silencing the ear piece. Unawares of what had just happened, Luca let out a whoop, running her wrist across her soaking-wet forehead as she punched a few keys next to her one-handed, the crystal of flight's benign voice drifting over the loudspeakers.

"Emergency brake has been activated…emergency brake has…Zzzzz….Zzz…Errrrrrrg!"

Both Luca and Golbez turned as the crystal's voice slowed and at last died as a drawn-out, painful warble. The pillar of light that suspended the crystal in mid-air ignited into a leaping column of flames, the fire lapping hungrily at the crystal as a harmony of disdainful, spiritless voices filled the bridge.

"Let this True Moon be your eternal resting place…though your bodies will not putrefy in the embrace of the cosmos, your treacherous souls will be judged in the nethermost depths of Hell itself!"

"W-What!?" Luca cried. "What's wrong with the Lunar Whale?"

"It's not the crystal of flight talking!" Golbez shook his head. "It's _her_ – or rather, them! The enemy!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha! Birthed from the womb of a dragon's corpse…and cursed to die in one as well!"

The cabin lights were snuffed out just as the Lunar Whale bounced across the moon's surface, sparks bursting into the air as all of the ship's monitors reverted back to plain glass, revealing a swirling sea of dust and twilight rushing before them in a chaotic blur. Golbez felt a familiar pang seize his heart before the despondent ring of shattering glass released into the universe. The last mote of light that faded from the retreating flames gifted him one final nightmare – the crystal of flight bursting into hundreds of glittering shards, raining resplendent golden light upon the bridge that faded into the aether a heartbeat later.

* * *

 _Darkness…_

 _Light…_

 _In the end, none of it matters…_

 _I will save you from this agony…that which comes from each drawn breath leading you closer still to death…_

 _I have saved so many...across countless galaxies…_

 _And yet, none of you hold the answers I seek…_

 _…Why do you suppose that is?_

Ceodore bolted upright, his head throbbing angrily as he released a surge of stale, sticky breath. The air that filled his lungs in turn was crisp and sterile – he had never tasted anything so _clean_ in his life. Looking down, he found himself in a simple, metal-frame bed, with white sheets stretched taut across the mattress and a white blanket pooled in his lap. To his left, an empty, steel-lined wall; to his right, a small mirror hanging over a basin and a button he assumed would let him out of here. His hand fluttered up to his forehead as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and took in his reflection. He could have sworn that he had been struck by something hard before passing out, but he couldn't remember a thing, and any evidence of a mark was gone. What shocked him more so than his miraculous recovery, however, were the twin trails of tears running down his cheeks – he had been unknowingly crying in his sleep. Reaching up to flick them away, the sad voice from his dream drifted into his ears once again.

 _"I will save you from this agony…that which comes from each drawn breath leading you closer still to death…"_

 _What is that supposed to mean? I bet Father would know, if he were only awake…_ Ceodore shook his head, throwing back the covers and swinging his legs over the bed. That amount of effort had been just a bit too much – he had to pause for a moment and massage his temple to ease the nausea that had crept up his throat. Yes, at some point, he must have definitely gotten hit in the head…

"Ooh..." he moaned into his chest, hesitatingly testing his weight with one foot before allowing himself to properly stand. _How is everyone? I have to find out what happened…_

As suspected, the button on the wall released the lock on his door, and he watched as it slid upward into the ceiling. He found himself in the hall of dorms that led to where his father was being kept – a quick glance at Cecil's pod revealed him to be at long last sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling steadily and his eyes shut. Ceodore almost collapsed in relief – he had been terrified that the screaming that had filled his ears before everything had gone black was never going to stop. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to Cecil's forehead and swiftly pulled back, inspecting his father's face for a reaction – a muscle twitch, a flutter behind his eyelids – anything. But Cecil simply remained asleep, his nearly-transparent hands draped over his abdomen.

"I know Cecil is praying for us. Praying for the moon to disappear…for our homeland to be saved."

Ceodore turned and saw his mother standing in the threshold, her exhausted gaze falling upon him. It was only then that he noticed the piles of rubble in the room and the gaping hole in the ceiling above, exposing a pitch-black, star-dotted sky. He had a feeling the mess had something to do with why he had ended up tucked away in a bed.

"Mother…where are we? Did we make it to the moon?"

She nodded, extending her hand.

"Come with me, dear. There's something you need to see."

Together, they crossed through the ship to the bridge, although Ceodore was disturbed at how quiet everything seemed to be – where was everyone? Had other people gotten hurt too? Even when he had secluded himself with Cecil, he could hear snatches of the buzz of their new comrades pouring in – he had even felt his heart skip a beat when he swore he heard Ursula's obnoxious bray telling someone off. _That_ was kind of weird…he attributed it to simultaneous relief that she was OK and the fear of what it would mean for his safety if they were trapped in space together, with no other punching bags for her amusement in sight.

When they reached the bridge, Ceodore only saw a couple figures – Kain, leaning against a row of panels, his head lowered and his arms crossed, and Golbez, kneeling on the floor, a swirl of black spilled behind him from his cape. He was sweeping piles of glittering dust into a tidy pile, and had been investigating a slender shard of what appeared to be glass when they had walked in. He lifted his gaze from the residue in his hand to the boy, and Ceodore got the feeling of ice water being poured down his spine when they locked eyes.

"You're awake," Kain declared, and Ceodore snapped out of his stupor, noticing now that the dust was _everywhere_. He bit his lip, wincing as he took a step forward and crushed some of it beneath his feet.

"What happened here?"

"The crystal of flight shattered," Golbez said calmly, scooping some of the dust between his hands and letting it rain down like an overturned hourglass. "Right before we made our landing. I'm fairly confident it was the mysterious girl's doing. The same thing happened on the Red Moon – each of the crystals shattered before my eyes, one by one. There was nothing Fusoya or I could do…we were already far too late to stop what was in motion by the time we both woke up."

"What!?" Ceodore gasped. "Does that mean we're trapped here now?"

"That appears to be the case, at least for the time being," Rosa frowned. "Nothing on the ship works anymore – so we don't have radar or a map. The others went out to explore on their own, but…"

"…No one's returned?" Ceodore gulped, and she nodded.

"We're the only ones left."

Golbez stood up, letting the crystal shard drop from his hands and fall to the floor with a gentle "ting" – it sounded like a quaint toast made over dinner.

"It's been a few hours – now that Ceodore is awake, I'll start looking for them. He can help defend the ship if any…unsavory visitors come."

"No!" Rosa cried, and Ceodore and Kain both looked to her in surprise. She grabbed Golbez's arm, although it was more for show than anything else – she could barely wrap her fingers around his sinewy forearm, let alone truly physically stop him from going anywhere. He glared down at her, but she didn't relent, pressing her chipped, white-tipped fingernails into his skin. "We don't know what's out there – that's why we agreed to go out in groups. If the others ran into something horrible that they couldn't fight off, what hope do you have alone?"

Golbez raised his eyebrows, gently yanking his arm back. He really didn't want to remind her _what_ he was capable of, given the circumstances of the very delicate dance of acceptance everyone was pantomiming, but he might have to if she kept trying to get in his way. She had been using the boy as an excuse as to why none of them should leave to go after the others, and now that Ceodore was up and about, she no longer had a leg to stand on.

"I think I'll manage."

Kain shook his head, pressing one foot against the metal-plated wall. "She's right, you know. If we're going to leave the Lunar Whale, let's do it together. Cecil's going to come back for us, and the only way we can ensure that happens is if we combine our strengths. If the others found something worth investigating, do you really think any of them would come back here and tell us first? They'd want to take it on themselves, because that's what any of us standing here would do, too. I'm sure if we proceed, we'll catch up with them."

All Golbez could do was sigh. _Honestly…do these people ever quit?_

He already knew the answer to that though, of course…

"But you bring up a most critical issue," Golbez frowned. "Who is going to stay behind and protect Cecil? The dolls?" That second question had been rhetorical – Calca and Brina were currently in a heap on the floor in one of the dorms, their bodies hastily shut down by Luca after she and Golbez had witnessed what the mysterious girl had been able to do to the Lunar Whale's systems – Luca had not wanted to take any chances after what had happened the last time the mysterious girl had gotten her magic into them. "There will be no one here to defend him if something were to happen."

"We'll bring him with us," Kain said a little too quickly – Golbez realized that was what he had been planning to do all along. "It won't be difficult for me to carry him. You and Ceodore can take point, and Rosa will act as our defense should we need it." Rosa offered a small smile when Golbez's glare bounced from Kain back to her. Ceodore, at least, had the audacity to look confused about if something like that would really work – he was giving Kain a questioning look that he was in turn pointedly ignoring.

 _At least one of these damn Baronians has a lick of common sense._

"Don't be ridiculous," Golbez sneered, shaking his head. "Have you forgotten that you're a dragoon, and fight in the air? You won't be of any use to anyone with an invalid slung over your shoulder – you're just going to get both yourself and Cecil killed."

"So, what are we supposed to do?" Rosa huffed, and Golbez pressed his hand to his forehead, letting out a quiet moan. He knew he had walked right into her trap as soon as he opened his mouth, but he supposed none of it mattered now. Kain may have been hopeful about the others being OK, but Golbez knew that they couldn't rely on that to be fact – it really might fall to them to unravel the mysteries of the True Moon…and to find the panacea for Cecil's curse.

"…I can fight with my magic as well, if not better than, any sword. I guess that means Cecil's welfare falls to me."

Rosa's lips curled into a small smile of relief, and Kain nodded in agreement. Golbez couldn't help but notice Ceodore's anxious, pleading stare toward Rosa – he knew right away what the boy had to have been thinking, as it was the same thought running through his mind as well.

 _You're leaving Cecil in the hands of the madman who once tried to murder him in cold blood?_

* * *

"Ugh…"

Rydia rolled over, her throat clenching as she choked on what felt like a million granules of moon dust. There wasn't a speck of light as far as the eye could see – she was surrounded in total darkness, her heart skipping a beat every time a noise (real or imagined) resonated around her. In an attempt to calm her racing heart, she tried to piece back together the fragmented memories that had seemingly imploded along with her body when she came crashing to _wherever_ she was now.

She traced her memory back to when the Lunar Whale had shuddered to a drawn-out, violent stop, her body banging into several chairs as she fell and leaving evidence of the encounter with the bruises and cuts she spied on her knees now. A rush of blurry faces had come to her rescue – maybe Yang and Ursula – and then had come the sound of shattering glass on the other side of the wall behind her.

Next thing she knew, she was standing in the bridge, her mind spinning as she observed the carnage that had overtaken their ship – the crystal of flight had shattered, and Golbez and Luca had been thrown into the dash from the emergency landing. They had shared with Rydia the crystal's final message before imploding…

 _The True Moon…that's what the crystal of flight called this place…_

Without any way of knowing where they had landed, Edge had gotten antsy and insisted on exploring the moon's surface while the others recovered from the crash. Before Rydia or anyone else could stop him, he had disappeared – and a few hours later, had still not made his return.

 _I should have gone with him_ , Rydia had thought, her eyes stinging as she had paced up and down the length of the ship and obsessively checked in on the blacked-out Ceodore and comatose Cecil. _He's still as reckless as ever – his challenging Ifrit in Eblan should have been enough proof of that._ Finally, she had had enough of doing nothing and decided she needed to strike out on her own and find the missing king.

But Yang had offered to escort her, as frustrated as she that the mysterious girl had seemingly yanked the proverbial welcome mat out from underneath them upon their arrival. It was odd that the enemy had not yet attacked after they had managed to ensnare the Lunar Whale in their trap – it had Yang worrying that something even more sinister was planned for them – he felt perhaps they could head it off.

Because Yang was going, Ursula then demanded that she go too…and then Luca followed suit…which then snowballed into Cid refusing to let his apprentice out of his sight – he would feel personally responsible if something happened to Luca now that the two of them had been reunited. Just like Cecil, Kain and Rosa, Cid considered Luca to be another one of his foster children – or grandchildren, depending on how old he felt when you asked.

Thus, the five of them had set out, promising the remaining members of their party that they too would return, with Edge in tow. But then something had happened that Rydia was now having trouble recalling. There had been the mouth of a cavern, a flash of light, and the seemingly eternal fall…

"Rydia, are you awake?"

A semi-familiar female voice drifted from the darkness, and the fog in Rydia's mind cleared itself enough for her to register that it belonged to Ursula.

"Yes, I am – where are we?"

"I-I don't know. But you'd better come see this…it's insane."

 _…Great. "Insane" is just what we need right now._

"Do you see Edge anywhere?"

"…No. Sorry…it just seems to be the five of us."

Rydia had to grasp onto the jagged wall behind her to haul herself to her feet. Staring up, she could see no evidence of a hole they might have fallen through, or even an indication of just how tall the cavern was. Ursula called out to her again, and she gingerly took a few steps forward, dragging her fingers along the wall. She heard the pad of satiny footsteps, and a few moments later, felt Ursula's hand slip into hers. Her pigtailed curls brushed Rydia's shoulders as she looked her up and down – Rydia felt like a little kid being investigated for scrapes by her mother. Ursula was already several inches taller than her, and probably had a good amount of growing yet to go being that she had Yang's DNA.

"You're limping…it's just a little further. Once we're in the light, I can see your body's chakra points and draw upon spiritual energy to revitalize you."

Rydia couldn't help but smile slightly through her pain at Ursula's declaration. _First Ceodore, and now Ursula…these children aren't just little kids anymore – someday soon, they're going to surpass their elders in every way imaginable. I can practically feel the power she holds brimming against my fingers…a fantastic energy that I've never even sensed within her father at these levels._

The shadows of three other figures were coming into view – Cid, Luca and Yang, their forms enveloped in a warm, orange light that seemed strangely nostalgic and set Rydia's heart racing once more. As she lifted her hand from the wall, she noticed that they were smudged in a silver residue that perfectly captured the swirling fine lines of her fingerprints. Lifting her fingers to her nose, she inhaled quietly, a leaden taste flooding her tongue – it was as if she had stuck a fistful of gil into her mouth.

 _Metal? What in the world…?_

As her eyes adjusted to her new scenery, she realized that Ursula had led her to an overarching cliff that spilled into a valley of wood – houses, buildings, roads, even black, spiraling, petrified trees that were forever frozen with their yearning branches extended skyward. Surrounding the valley were tumbling falls of pulsing, glowing magma, their only source of light. The blood drained from Rydia's face as she dropped Ursula's hand and limped to the edge of the cliff, dumbfounded as to what any of this could possibly mean. Her boots made an odd crunching noise as she made her approach – when she glanced down, she saw hundreds of red, shimmering shards spilled over the cliffs – an ocean of crystalized blood beneath her feet.

"But how can we be _here_? What is all this?" Rydia asked, her voice shaking. Luca, who was cupping a handful of the shards and holding the magnifying glass Cid had relinquished from his tool belt, shook her head and turned her palm over to let them spill back upon the ground.

"…They're rubies. Hundreds and hundreds of crushed rubies…"

 _No…no…!_ Rydia shuddered, pressing her metal-stained fingers to the hyacinth wilting behind her ear thanks to the sudden swell of heat. _What is she trying to prove?_

"Do you know this place, Rydia?" Yang asked, and she nodded, turning back to the valley. In the far distance, she saw the brief flicker of yellow silk ripple in the horizon, and the silhouette of a deific apparition with long, ribbon-like limbs rising on the roof of one of the very furthest buildings. When she blinked, the figure disappeared, and an obelisk of pale red light could be seen bleeding into the flow of the magma. A waypoint …or perhaps a warning?

 _"You will have to seek darkness and starlight in order to save the others…"_

She wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes. In the darkness, she was greeted with the flash of violet eyes, and the gleam of a scimitar's edge, glistening with blood…

"This is the Feymarch…"

* * *

Porom gave the pair of white-frosted glass doors one final push, throwing the entirety of her backside against them and releasing an unflattering grunt as she slowly slid to the floor, panting for breath and looking up at the others behind a curtain of sweat-marred bangs.

"It's no good. Some kind of force is blocking the way."

"How did we get here?" Leonora whispered, although she might as well have been shouting – the corridor was eerily silent with the exception of the buzzing hum of glowing, pulsing lights that reminded her of the Lunar Whale, except far more aseptic and cold. Their voices echoed maddeningly over the glass walls and ceilings, making it sound as if far more than the five of them were milling about.

But Porom was fairly sure they were alone. _Fairly_.

"And you're quite positive this is the Tower of Babil?" Harley had her notebook whipped out, scribbling as fast as her brain could fire out her thoughts. It didn't seem to bother her a bit that they had not only stumbled upon a location that should have been physically impossible for them to reach, being that the tower was east of Eblan on the Blue Planet, but that they had now firmly established that they were confined in said locale as well. She was way too fascinated by the futuristic tower's trappings to be bothered by minor details like that at the moment.

"Oh, I'm sure. You don't forget a hellhole like this in your entire lifetime," Palom drawled, and Leonora's cheeks reddened.

"Palom…is-is that type of language really…"

"Sorry, sorry," Palom shrugged. "But what should I call it, then?"

"Erm…"

"I don't think it really matters," Porom frowned, burring her head in her hands and exhaling slowly. "At any rate, hellhole _is_ apropos, at least for this place."

She and Palom had only been in the Tower of Babil once as small children. When they had first arrived, it had been a thrill that Cecil had not only asked them to accompany him to help Rydia find whatever it was that was calling to her from within, but to also explore the haunting monolith that had been overflowing with magical energy.

But the Rydia had turned out to be nothing more than a fake to lure Cecil into a trap, and when the tower's summoned beasts turned themselves upon them at her command, they would have all been surely buried there if the _real_ Rydia hadn't turned out just in time. Even all these years later, the battle against Rydia's doppelgänger had been one of the most harrowing of their young lives – not many people could say that they stood against the All-Father of the eidolons and walked away in mostly one piece.

After all that, Porom was quite satisfied with never setting foot in there again and leaving the care of the tower to the Eblanese – and in a rare occasion, her brother was on the same page as she.

"The others are probably worried sick by this point," Edward sighed. He had been pressing his palms against every glass panel he could reach, trying to see if he could trigger a hidden door – anything – that would give them a hint on how to get out of here. "You all have my deepest apologies – if I hadn't insisted on seeking out Rydia and the others…" He lowered his head. "I failed her seventeen years ago when I couldn't save her from Leviathan…I thought that maybe this time, if she were in danger, I could…"

"D-Don't apologize, King Edward," Leonora shook her head. "How were we supposed to know that entering a cavern would lead to all this? The footprints outside matched those of the others…it only made sense to follow them here."

"Yeah, what she said," Palom smirked. "Anyway, we only have ourselves to blame for following you, eh?"

"Palom…" Porom growled in a warning tone. He raised his eyebrows in her direction, silently challenging her to point out which part he had spoken was untruthful, but mercifully decided to keep his big mouth shut when she drew a threatening finger across her throat. Edward was in enough of a tizzy as it was, and she didn't want Palom making him feel guiltier or weak for accepting their offer to accompany him. When Edward had announced on the Lunar Whale that he and Harley would seek Rydia out, it had been Porom's idea to convince him to bring her along – she had explained that if they found anyone that was hurt, her white magic could help. But Palom had interpreted Porom's volunteerism as a not-so-subtle way of telling Edward and Harley that they would be moon dust if they set even one foot outside the Lunar Whale, so he had forced himself into their group too, and dragged poor Leonora along for the ride. Porom was ninety percent sure that Palom only had intentions of showing off for his new, naïve friend, and was not exclusively motivated by the idea of keeping their old friends or sister safe.

And if they now had no way of returning to the Lunar Whale, that left only Kain, Rosa, Golbez and Ceodore to protect both the ship and Cecil…

"What powers a place like this?" Harley asked, chewing on the top of her pen. Edward shot her a thankful look for the distracting question – he had not been sure how to respond to Palom's blunt comment, and bursting into tears wasn't a viable option, even if that was all he wanted to do.

"I'm not sure of the answer," Porom said. "Cecil once told us that the tower was built with Lunarian technology – that's why it's so advanced compared to anything we have. But the tower itself actually only comes alive for its true purpose when all of the planet's crystals have been gathered. It opens something called an "interdimensional elevator" that links the Blue Planet to other celestial bodies."

"Interdimensional elevator, eh?" Harley's eyes sparkled with curiosity behind her glasses. "So maybe we were taken back to our planet?"

"If that were the case, wouldn't this work?" Edward frowned, pulling from his cloak the small bouquet of whisperweed. The flowers hadn't emitted a single peep, remaining as dead as they had when the Lunar Whale had been dragged into the new moon's orbit.

"Good point," Harley nodded. "I retract my theory."

"So, this isn't the _real_ Tower of Babil, then?" Palom blinked. "But who would go through such effort just to build a fake tower with all of these perfect details?"

"M-Maybe it's not a fake that someone _built_ ," Leonora suddenly piped up, much to everyone's surprise. She instantly flushed when all eyes fell to her, inwardly cringing but managing to stammer her way through the rest of her thought. "I-It could be an illusion…something someone _wants_ us to see."

Palom's eyes widened, and he slapped his fist into his palm. "Ah, of course! Like the Epopts and the hidden path in the Lodestone Cavern!" Leonora nodded, her nervous pout cracking into the tiniest of smiles.

"Er, yes…exactly like that. Which means our true path may be hidden elsewhere."

"Leonora, you're a genius," Edward smiled, and she brought her hands to her mouth, her billowing sleeves swallowing the bottom half of her face.

"No, no, no, I just…"

"We'll keep looking, then!" Porom jumped up, purposefully tucking her hair behind her ears. Straight ahead was a corridor that eventually split off into two wings of open floor space – unfortunately, there didn't seem to be much to them other than more lights and more dizzying reflections of themselves from the glass to greet them.

And as sterile and undisturbed as this place seemed to be when they had entered – it didn't seem likely that Edge or Rydia had taken this path… So where had they ended up instead? Porom let her surge of positive energy fade into oblivion as soon as the others had turned their back to her, all of them going off into separate directions for another round of exploring.

She couldn't help but feel that they may have walked right into a trap. Forget about going home – would they even ever see the light of day again?

* * *

 _So, this is what it's like to be on another world…_

 _Without the sun or the lights of the cities, you can see the stars as clearly as if they were fireflies in a jar at your bedside. It_ _ **is**_ _beautiful, in an alien, lonely way…_

 _A drifting moon without the bounties of the crystals – no soil from which life can spring nor return, no wind to carry your breath to your friends, no water to purify, and no fire to sustain warmth…_

 _How can those girls possibly thrive here? Why do they hate our world so much that they wish to destroy it?_

 _Father…I wish you could see all of this…I wish I could hear your voice..._

 _…I wish, more than anything else, you could tell me not to be afraid._

Ceodore didn't realize his hands had been clutched in prayer until he tripped over something sharp concealed in the silky dust of the moonscape, and went falling forward. Not being able to untangle his fingers in time, he fell flat on his face, visibly cringing as a spray of grit stung his eyes. He had been trailing behind the others, and Rosa turned to see what had happened.

"Ceodore! Are you OK?"

"Yes…" His eyes had begun to water, much to his relief, rinsing away the contaminants in his vision. "What did I trip on?"

They had been following several pairs of footprints that had led away from the Lunar Whale to the south – none of them very well defined anymore, but all were certainly pointing to the evidence that someone – be they friend or enemy – had been nearby. As Ceodore rolled over onto his back, Rosa knelt down and plucked the object sticking out of the dust, blowing it clean before holding it up to the sparse starlight.

It was a four-pointed, black steel shuriken – the tips stained with just the slightest hint of crimson.

"Edge…" Rosa trailed off, biting her lip. "So, he WAS here…"

Kain turned around, and Rosa handed him the shuriken.

"He must have gotten attacked. Hopefully the monster was dusted, and not him."

"Ugh!" Ceodore suddenly gagged and forced himself to spit, realizing that meant he had potentially inhaled a face-full of monster corpses. Rosa lowered her head, and Golbez, who hadn't stopped walking throughout the entire exchange, shifted Cecil's weight to his right arm and pointed ahead.

"The footprints end here…there's a cavern just beyond this slope."

"Let's go, Ceodore," Rosa said, extending her hand. Ceodore used it to pull himself up, registering the deep sadness that had flooded her gaze before quickly looking away.

 _She's terrified too…I'm sure she never thought she would have to do something like this again…especially without Father by her side._

At the entrance to the cave, Ceodore dared to steal a peek at Cecil's still form. He hadn't moved an inch since Golbez had lifted him from the pod, the rise and fall of his breath even too shallow to register in the stillness of the moon's atmosphere. As blood-chilling as it had been before, Ceodore would have gladly taken a scream or a fit from Cecil at that very moment, just for the tiny assurance that he still had some spark of life left within him, no matter how impossibly small.

"What's that?" Rosa asked, pointing deeper within the cavern. A gentle blue light was dancing along the rear cave wall, floating upward in soft blue spheres that looked like champagne bubbles. Other than the light, the cave appeared to be non-descript and empty – maybe a place someone could camp for the night, but not much bigger than that.

"It's emitting a powerful magic," Golbez said bluntly. "Be careful."

"Edge?" Kain called, stepping inside. "Rydia? …Edward?"

There came no reply. Kain's boots clicked against the floor of the cavern as he approached the light, the rainbow-plated scales of his armor erupting in a riot of colors.

"Kain…" Golbez warned, and Rosa screamed as a scintillating flash of light engulfed the cave, swallowing Kain whole. She chased him inside, grasping Kain's arm just as she could feel him fading away beneath her fingertips.

"Come, Ceodore!" Golbez gasped, grabbing the boy's hand and dashing forward into the brilliance. Ceodore cried out as an agonizing slash of pain tore across his temple, clenching his eyes shut as the light robbed him of his remaining senses and sent him spiraling through space.

When he next opened his eyes, he found himself standing upright, his hands tightly balled into fists. Rosa and Kain were staring at their surroundings in open-mouthed horror, while Golbez was clenching his jaw so hard that Ceodore could swear he heard his bones cracking. Cecil remained limp in Golbez's arms, dying motes of blue light fading against his hair.

They had been deposited in yet another cave, though this one was much larger than its predecessor – when Ceodore looked up, he could no longer see the sky or the stars – just an infinite sea of black. Mirroring the black below was a chasm that surrounded the island of rock they were standing upon, their only way out and across the chasm a crudely carved flight of stairs carved into the wall of the next level of the chamber.

"Where are we now?" Ceodore frowned, gently kicking at the ground. A web of bone-like veins blanketed the cavern floor, the gaps between each groove covered in a fine dusting of silver and white. They appeared so delicate that they would crumble beneath his weight. As the dust flew into the air from his kick, he swore he saw a strange flicker of black and white and heard the hiss of something…not quite human. Mechanical, almost…like an airship engine. But when he looked down again, the dust had settled once more, and the chamber was silent with the exception of everyone's raspy breathing, including his own.

"This is…" Rosa trailed off.

"The Lunar Subterrane," Golbez finished for her, shaking his head.

"How can this be?" Kain hissed. "We haven't transported ourselves to the Red Moon, right? So how can there be two of them!?"

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Ceodore cried, feeling his nervousness escalate with each new utterance of disbelief from the adults. "What is the Lunar Subterrane?"

"It's where we fought Zemus before you were born," Rosa explained distractedly, her eyebrows arching as a strangled cry emanated from the depths below. "It used to contain the village where the Lunarians convened before they went to sleep…right, Golbez?"

"Yes", Golbez affirmed. "But the only way you can reach the Lunar Subterrane is using the Lunar Crystals' energy as a gateway. That's how Fusoya was able to seal Zemus within once upon a time and how we were able to sleep unguarded these past seventeen years."

"…But you said on the Lunar Whale that those crystals had shattered," Ceodore frowned, and Golbez nodded.

"Right. So, the fact that we're here is _deeply_ troubling. Understood?"

"Yes," Ceodore muttered, looking back to his feet. "Crystal clear."

"We could try to use Teleport to backtrack," Kain suggested.

"It's worth a shot," Rosa nodded, extending her arms. "Everyone, grab onto me."

They obeyed, and Rosa cast the spell, a hopeful lilt in her voice as she recited the incantation. But instead of the world around them fading away with a cleansing glow and being replaced by the desolate moonscape, her spell echoed emptily throughout the sprawling chamber, and Ceodore didn't feel so much as a flutter in his hair. Rosa dropped her arms with a huff, cursing unintelligibly under her breath.

Kain shook his head. "I guess that would have been too easy."

"Maybe this is why the others didn't come back," Rosa sighed. "But if that's the case…perhaps it means we'll catch up to them."

"Or we're in a trap," Golbez muttered.

As they discussed what they should do next, Ceodore climbed the stairs that revealed the next layer of the subterrane, letting out a quiet sigh as he took in the spiraling path before him that eventually bled into darkness.

 _If this really is the Lunar Subterrane of Cecil and Golbez's past…that means I am walking my father's path yet again…but this time, I walk with his comrades_ _ **and**_ _his enemies…_ He glanced over his shoulder at Golbez, who was saying something to Kain, but had his eyes cut squarely on Ceodore. Ceodore shuddered, quickly turning a corner so that Golbez's icy glare could no longer reach him.

 _I still can't believe that he's my father's elder brother…my only paternal blood relative! All my life, I've grown up to believe that Golbez was the fiend who destroyed my parents' lives and nearly the entire world…yet they failed to tell me the most horrific truth of it all._

He pressed his hand to his mouth, stifling a whimper.

 _Everything I believed about my namesake was a lie. Why would father name me after someone so…heinous?_

Ceodore came to a halt a few minutes later when he came to a black glass door framed with navy-imbued steel, no latch or handle in sight for him to take hold of. At the base of the door was a devastating sight – black crystal pieces spilled all over the ground, the light long-faded from each shard's face. Kneeling down, Ceodore picked up one of the shards, holding it up to his face so that only his cerulean eye reflected back at him in the dim light of the subterrane.

 _Another shattered crystal…is it one of the Lunar Crystals from Golbez's home? Father – please, tell me what are we supposed to do…!_

"Oh my gods. Ceodore, is that you?"

Ceodore lifted his head in surprise at the familiar shout, the crystal shard slipping in his fingers and slicing cleanly through the flesh of his palm as he stumbled awkwardly to catch it before it shattered into yet more pieces. Wincing and pressing the bleeding skin to his lips, he turned around, but saw no one behind him.

 _Huh…must have been my imagination. For a moment, I thought I heard_ _ **her**_ _, of all people…_

"Over here. In front of you!"

Ceodore blinked, staring into the swirling darkness of the glass before him. A pale pair of lithe legs had appeared, his eyes trailing up the length of a tattered red cheongsam dress and two very familiar fists. He slowly stood up, his palm still pressed to his mouth as he stared dumbly at the reflection of the champagne-eyed, yellow-curled girl glaring at him impatiently.

 _She certainly looks like Princess Ursula…but there's something different about her…something I can't quite put my finger on._ "…Is that really you?" Ceodore mumbled against the spill of blood, and she nodded, eyes flashing.

"You OK?"

"I will be," Ceodore blushed, yanking his hand away and licking at a droplet of blood on his lower lip. Why, of all times, did she have to show up when he looked like a vulnerable idiot? Couldn't a guy cry over his disaster of a family in peace even in the far reaches of space?

Ursula came closer to the glass, her eyeballs darting about curiously. "I can't tell where you are. Can you see anything on my end?"

"No," Ceodore shook his head. "It looks like you're standing in a black room."

"Damn…" Ursula shook her head, sighing. "Same with you. I'm in a place that Rydia calls the Feymarch. It's kind of like a village, only there are no people, it's a million degrees, and Rydia has us crawling through every single empty house looking for a way out. I stumbled across this strange door in the village square, and saw a flash of blue – for a moment, I thought you were your father. But then, the rest of you appeared…"

"My father…?" Ceodore stared down at the crystal shard, biting his lip. _A flash of blue… Did something happen when I gazed into the crystal…?_

Ursula tilted her head. "So, if you're not in the Feymarch, then where exactly _are_ you? Who's with you?"

Ceodore quickly explained everything that had happened since they had left the Lunar Whale, and how they had materialized in the Lunar Subterrane with no way out. When he was finished, Ursula tapped her finger to her chin, sighing.

"Edge is still missing, and Edward, Harley and those three mages went out on their own too?"

"Yeah," Ceodore shook his head. "I woke up after they left, though – I hope they're all OK."

"Me too," Ursula's tone softened a bit. "How is Uncle Cecil faring?"

"He hasn't changed a bit."

Her gaze flicked away guiltily. "Oh, I see..."

Ceodore stared at his upturned wrist, watching placidly as another bead of blood slowly ran down the curve of his palm and splashed onto the crystal shards below. He wasn't sure exactly why he felt compelled to tell Ursula what was racing through his mind at that moment, but he let it all spill forth in a rush of breath before he could change his mind. "But I have a strange feeling...Even though Father hasn't stirred since we landed on the moon, I think he understands what is happening here. All of it."

Ursula blinked, pressing her hands to the glass as she leaned in closer. "…You've changed, Ceodore."

"Huh?" Ceodore lifted his gaze warily, ready for the punchline. But when he looked into her eyes, he was shocked to see something unfamiliar, but tender – sympathy, perhaps? – reflecting back at him.

"The Ceodore I knew always acted like there was a heavy burden placed on his shoulders. That burden of being the prince of Baron... No, the burden of having Cecil and Rosa's blood in his veins."

Ceodore's cheeks tinged as he closed his eyes – he could easily recall the burn of Biggs' hand against his cheek and the throb in his shoulder when he had gotten smacked around on the deck of the Red Wings fleet for whining about that very same subject just _days_ ago. He wanted to die of shame just thinking about that awful morning, recalling how foolishly he had been acting while at that very moment his father was likely fighting for his life against whatever curse that wretched girl had laid upon him.

"...You're right."

"It always made me wonder: Why did you never feel a sense of pride about your family?"

He thought about it for a moment before answering. "…I guess I had to learn how to."

Ursula drew in a quiet breath. "From whom?"

"From Kain, and Biggs, and Wedge. And from all the people my father once fought with…" He bit his lip, thinking of the other Lunarian in that chamber, the one who literally held Cecil's life in his blood-stained hands – the same blood that also ran through Ceodore's veins, regardless of whatever name that man went by now. "…And those he fought against, too."

"…I always hoped that you would learn it for yourself," Ursula's smile greeted him as he opened his eyes, and he felt something strange flutter in his chest as he drank in the pale pink swell of her mouth. "…I suppose my father did too, come to think of it. I guess we're both pretty lucky we've got patient parents, huh?"

Ceodore nodded, suddenly realizing what had been bothering him about her this entire time – it was like his senses had finally been stirred from a fog-ridden nap. His eyes fell on the rose headband perched in her hair.

"I see that your birthday present arrived. Do you like it?"

"Huh?" Ursula reached up, brushing her fingers over the silken petals. "…Like it? I absolutely adore it! It's already been to a watery grave and back, and it still looks divine – I'm thinking about making it my trademark piece, you know."

"It really suits you," Ceodore smiled. "I'm so glad I stumbled upon the artesian that makes them – I saw him selling them to some of my schoolmates in town, and when I asked if he could make one to match the roses in Baron's gardens, he said it would be his pleasure. I remembered how much you liked going to those gardens when you used to visit, so I thought you should have a Baronian rose that would be with you no matter where you went."

Ursula pressed her lips into a thin line, and Ceodore blanched, wondering if he had said something offensive. Maybe buying a princess' birthday gift from a street vendor was uncalled for? He had never taken Ursula to be the materialistic type, but…there was an awful lot he didn't know about women in general.

"…Wait. You mean Uncle Cecil didn't pick this out?"

"Well, no," Ceodore flushed, scratching his head. "I did. But, erm…he paid for it, and everything…it really is a gift from the family. I didn't mean to make it sound like it was just from me…" He could feel fire that had ignited on his cheeks spreading to his ears and neck. "…That would be weird, right?"

She quickly shook her head, choking out a half-laugh. "Not weird at all. I was just…surprised! You have wonderful taste for someone who doesn't get out much."

 _There's the real Ursula,_ Ceodore thought, but her rather tame (for her) insult comforted him far more than he thought could ever be possible – he realized this was a sad testament to what his life had become.

Turning so that Ceodore couldn't see the blush exploding across her face, Ursula rested her shaking hands upon her hips. "Don't worry. I'm sure your father will be back to normal in no time."

"Thanks," Ceodore nodded, even though he knew she could no longer see him. "I should be getting back to the others. These doors have to be more than just two-way mirrors…there must be a way to use them to get to each other."

"I'm with you there. I'll tell Rydia, my father and Luca what we found. In the meantime – stay diligent. We have no way of knowing what is lurking down here."

"Got it."

Ursula's side of the mirror went dark, and Ceodore was once again greeted with his reflection. He sighed, pressing his forehead into the glass and closing his eyes so that he didn't have to wince under the piercing glow of his own stare – it ached too much to see his father's Lunarian legacy branded so intensely within his features.

 _It would seem we are at least closer to our comrades than we originally thought – but what kind of magic is at play that has warped us to totally different locations? The Lunar Subterrane of the Red Moon…and the Feymarch of the Underworld…what's the connection?_

Kain, Rosa and Golbez emerged from the previous chamber, Rosa calling Ceodore's name when she finally spotted him in the churning darkness. His eyes fluttered open as he turned toward her voice, his lips parting to speak as a plum-colored, meaty hand extended toward him from the mirror, milky white eyes erupting from slits of its knuckles.

Throbbing fingers melded together and transformed into a python's jaws, a single crack of bone-on-bone disrupting the still air as the newly-formed maw lurched for the curve of Ceodore's neck.

* * *

Edge slammed his palm against the mechanism impatiently, sparing a half second to assess the escalating situation behind him and instantly regretting it. He let out another vulgar string of curses aloud and smashed the button harder, blowing a lock of sweat-soaked hair out of his face.

"Come on, you piece of…! I'm dyin' out here!"

An army of Clockwork Soldiers was roving toward him, the abominations' spiked metal feet smashing the last of the glass tiles before the wired metal drawbridge that had temporarily granted Edge a modicum of safety. He had figured that once he made it into the crystal chamber that he knew was waiting for him on the other side, he could trigger the trap door inside for an easy escape, just like he had previously done with the mysterious girl chasing him down. He still wasn't quite sure how he had managed to make his way into the Tower of Babil again from what had looked like a simple cavern, but found he didn't have much time to question his surroundings before the monsters had begun their advance. He had run out of mana hours ago to call upon any more ninjitsu Blitz magic to fry the bastards, and it seemed that no matter how many he took out, five more reappeared for each one defeated. Their steel-plated exoskeletons made his weapons fairly useless, and they had the speed and precision an organic monster or human would normally be lacking, so even his supernatural agility didn't give him much of a lead in the fight.

 _The monsters were never this bad in the tower, even when Golbez was hiding the crystals here during the war…it would seem someone is out for my blood._

At long last, the control panel for the door lit up green, and the god-sent whistle of the metal plate lifting from the ground revealed the familiar crystal chamber. Diving beneath the door as soon as it had gained enough inches in the air to accept his form, Edge rolled over and smashed the button on the inside of the opposite wall, barking out a desperate laugh as the door slammed back shut and one pointed limb crashed into it, causing a small swell to bloom at the impact site. The commotion outside only continued to grow louder and louder, but he no paid them any mind. Let them jostle each other off the bridge, for all he cared – he was staying put until his lungs and his leg muscles were no longer hemorrhaging precious oxygen.

Besides – there was the small matter of the _other_ bastards that he now had to deal with.

"What are you here for?" Edge spat, and his inquiry, at first, went unanswered. But sure enough, a few moments later, four columns of different colored smoke erupted in front of the two front most crystal pillars, and Gekkou, Zangetsu, Izayoi and Tsukinowa appeared, darkness flooding their eyes.

Zangetsu was the first to brave a step forward – he was clutching his spear, using it as a walking stick as he hobbled to the front of the group.

"Master..."

"I...I..." Tsukinowa stammered, tugging his cowl up higher so that he could hide as much of his face as possible.

Izayoi bent to one knee, bowing her head. "I apologize..."

But Gekkou offered no words and made no motion – he continued to stare at Edge, his black eyes hardened like flint, and his arms defensively crossed over his chest.

"I told you to keep watch at the castle for me," Edge said, his calm, disconnected tone having the same effect on the air as the room suddenly plummeting several degrees in temperature. Finally, Tsukinowa forced himself to speak, his gaze lowered to the floor.

"We _couldn't_ just stay there and watch, Master! Not while this moon is advancing ever closer to our homeland..."

"So, you snuck onto the Lunar Whale at great danger to yourself, and then followed me all the way here, thinking you were being so clever? How could you think that I wouldn't possibly pick up on your chakras as soon as you opened your mouth to breathe?"

None of them bothered to ask him to delve into any further detail. Of course, it had been silly for them to hope he would not have picked up on being tailed – that was stealth 101, for gods' sake. But still, he had played along with their little game for the near-entirety of their journey, and had cruelly implanted a sense of false hope precisely for the payoff of this moment – where he would proceed to tear them down to shreds and make each other pick up the pieces.

Gekkou snorted, shaking his head. "We've come here to defend our honor, my lord. This isn't just about you, or Eblan. It's about us – our world. We have a right to be here – just as much as you or any of the others."

Zangetsu nodded in agreement. "My creaky old body may not be capable of much... But if it'll help stop this moon, I will gladly lay my life on the line. I accept the consequences if that's what it all comes down to in the end…I truly do, Master. I would not want to be reunited with my son so soon if it meant a foolish waste of what he once sacrificed for me – for Eblan, too – and I think you feel that way too, deep inside."

"I wanted to contribute to the cause...no matter how little it may help in the end," Izayoi frowned. "I was only able to selfishly save Chisaki and myself during the first war – now, I want to save all of my people! Never again will I let myself feel as if I don't have anything of value to offer our world – I carry Eblan in my heart with every mission I've ever taken on, with every breath that's left my lips, and now with every star I've crossed in this infinite galaxy. You can demote me, or punish me, or make me conduct every mission for the rest of my life as a seductress – I don't care anymore. As long as I live truly by my heart, I'll be at peace with who I am. Isn't that what you've wanted this whole time for us?"

Edge reddened, climbing off of the floor and making his way toward them, each pointed word accompanied by the stomp of his foot. "Defiant fools! You flatter yourself...as if you've somehow become the end-all, be-all of the shadow arts."

 _Why…why are you doing this for me? Doing this for a country that has demanded your loyalty, your blood, your lives, and given you nothing in return? I've tried with every fiber of my being…I've tried to be the monarch you deserve, the leader that inspires bravery, not rebellion – but in the end, I'm still just a spoiled prince, running off to chase down the bad guys by myself…_ _ **again**_ _._

 _I'm the one who has been selfish…I want to save Eblan too…but I don't want any of you to be the price I have to pay to get it all back._

 _Gekkou…Zangetsu…Izayoi…Tsukinowa…Cecil…_

 _…Rydia…!_

 _If your blood spilled because of these incapable hands... How would I ever forgive myself?_

Gekkou was the only one who dared to stare Edge in the eye as he went about his tirade. Despair was clouding his master's gaze despite his venom-laced words, and Gekkou was reminded of a time thirty years prior – the cold summer night he had watched a scared, lonely princeling wander to the brink during their test of courage, devastation seeping from his pores.

 _I still see you, Edge. Even after all this time, I see the real you standing here before me – the lingering shadow beneath the pomp and circumstance of your titles and your rank. The Edge that so few in this world have ever truly known… Those are the people you fight for above all others, just as Golbez said. If you were only willing to speak of what's truly in your heart, you would be free from so much chaos, from the very chains you cast upon yourself long ago._

 _And if not now, while we're on the brink of losing everything that matters to us…then when?_

"No..." Gekkou shook his head, sighing, and Edge paused in place, eyes narrowed. "We are not the end-all, be-all of anything. We strive to push the ninja arts to their very limits, but when our time comes, we will still return to the planet same as any other man or woman, and our essences will serve to fuel the future generations we strive to raise up during our short time in this plane. We are only human, Master – and I do deign to speak for all of us when I say that surely, that is enough for Eblan – and it _always_ has been. The same could be said of you, too."

Edge turned away, silently praying that his cape concealed the sudden shaking that began to wrack his knees. It was very difficult for him to not also interpret Gekkou's declaration as perhaps a subdued commentary about their own volatile relationship these past thirty years – but Gekkou had always been a master at the art of subtlety, just another way that he and Edge were fated to clash for the rest of their days.

 _Thank you, Gekkou… I do think I see it now…_

 _…That if I've done one thing right in this life, it's been allowing you to step forward and foster the beautiful dream you've always envisioned for our homeland – shaping it with your hands, and the hands of those chosen few at your side – the four of you have done more for Eblan's soul than I could ever hope to achieve in my lifetime._

 _And I think I might finally be all right with that...to share the burden with those who are willing…_ _That's what you would do, right, Cecil?_

Edge crossed his arms over his chest, smiling crookedly to himself. "Well, all the same…human, or ninja, child, or woman… I will be relying upon you."

"Master!" Izayoi gasped. "Does this mean…?"

Edge nodded, closing his eyes as he exhaled sharply. "But…our promise from before still stands."

"Yes?" Gekkou raised a brow.

" _Survive._ No matter what happens."

As they talked, two ebony-colored crystals manifested from twin pillars of twilight on the daises behind them, silently shedding their light... A flash caught in the corner of Edge's eye, and he felt a violent chill rush down his spine as his pulse roared in his ears.

He lifted his chin as he heard the delicate notes of cracking glass ringing in the air, and then came the explosion, engulfing him and the Eblan Four in a penetrating veil of black.

* * *

The lights in the corridor dimmed noticeably for a few beats longer than usual, causing Palom and Porom to look up at the same time, their faces twisted with the same look of confusion. Leonora squealed and stumbled back, a panel of the wall in front of her transforming into a shining glass doorway with what looked like pinpricks of starlight dancing behind it on the other side.

"What did you do?" Porom blinked, and Palom puffed out his cheeks.

" _Nothing_! Why do you always go straight to blaming me first for everything?"

"Old habits die hard?" Porom shrugged, and Palom growled, clenching his fist.

"You're such a…"

"Everyone! Come quickly!"

Harley's demanding alto interrupted their fight, and Leonora let out a huff of air she hadn't realized she had been holding in as she watched the twins reluctantly back down from tearing each other to shreds and turn instead to the direction of Harley's voice. The three mages crossed the corridor to the opposite wing, only to find Harley and Edward standing next to an exact replica of the door that had appeared for them.

"One of those appeared on our end, too," Palom frowned. "Did you try going in?"

"Palom!" Porom sighed. "You can't just foolishly waltz into something like that…"

"Oh, I already tried," Harley blinked, and Porom smacked her palm to her forehead, eliciting a nervous peal of laughter from Leonora. She figured if she couldn't laugh, she would just break down crying instead.

"It's locked. Or…sealed, perhaps may be the correct term," Edward added. "See?" He gingerly knocked on the glass, which gave way to nothing other than a resonating thump.

"What were you doing when it appeared?" Leonora asked, and Harley shook her head.

"Not a thing. We weren't even talking – so I don't think it was invoked by anything we said."

"We also were not doing anything of consequence," Leonora sighed. "Oh dear…"

Palom chewed on his lip as he walked over to the door, looking it up and down inch by inch and running his hands over the frame several times. Just when Porom was about to testily ask him if he was going to ask the damn thing out on a date, he stepped back, sucking air in between his teeth.

"I think the key is that they appeared at the same time, at dead opposites of the tower floor. So maybe we have to try to enter them simultaneously to break the magic seal."

"Y-You mean, we need to split up?" Leonora gulped, and Palom nodded.

"Might be the only way. But maybe we'll be reunited on the other side."

"…Like, when we're dead?" Leonora blinked, and Palom groaned.

"No! I meant on the literal other side of the door!"

Porom didn't much like that theory, but unfortunately, it seemed to be the only viable idea they had. Edward offered a weak smile, pulling a sprig of whisperweed from his coat and offering it to Porom.

"How about Harley and I take the left wing, and you three take the right? We can keep in touch with this."

"I…I don't know…" Porom trailed off, pinching the flower between her fingers. "What if…"

"…There are monsters?" Harley finished for her, shaking her head. "Don't worry about us, Lady Porom. I have my whip, and King Edward has his soothing bard song. And if worse comes to worst…we're both really excellent hiders."

"That's not a reassuring plan," Porom muttered, and Palom flicked her arm, making her snarl and cut him a fierce side-eye.

"If Harley says they'll be fine, then they'll be fine. Besides, you're not going to make me dump my student on them, are you? That just wouldn't be fair."

"Oh no, please don't do that," Leonora flushed. "I don't want to be a burden to the King of Damcyan…I've yet to even be properly ordained as an Epopt."

 _The gods help this poor girl,_ Porom thought to herself. _She has no idea which direction is up._

"Then it's settled," Edward nodded. "When we've reached our positions, we'll do a count of "three" in into the whisperweed and see what happens."

Porom reluctantly followed Palom and Leonora back to "their" door, clutching the flower. After a few moments, Edward's voice broke through the silence, asking if everyone was ready. Palom shouted back that he was, reaching for the glass. Leonora started the countdown, her eyes catching Porom's as the two girls silently reached for each other's hands.

On Edward's side, Harley extended her fingers outward toward the door, her voice catching in her throat as she felt Edward's hand brush over her other wrist. She took one last look at him over her shoulder before plunging forward when "three" fell from his lips, his smile fading in a beam of glistening moonlight that rushed her body and made her feel as if a pair of dragon wings had suddenly unfurled over her back, launching her into an empyrean swell of stars.

 _This feeling of my soul being pulled through space-time itself...I wonder if this door is actually…!_

* * *

The horror that had taken hold of Rosa's face registered with Ceodore only seconds before he felt the surge of sticky, fetid breath of his assailant drench the back of his neck. A voice was silently screaming inside his chest, the one-worded warning reverberating through his form with each throb of his heart.

 _Danger! Danger! Danger!_

Before he could comprehend what he was doing, Ceodore reached for Excalibur, whirling around and bringing the blade across the glass in a blur of bleeding twilight. A pair of extended fangs attached to a trembling snake's head tumbled onto the pile of crystal shards, muddy purple blood oozing from the wound Ceodore had sundered with his sword. His eyes traveled from the now amputated stump that was twitching from within the mirror, the color draining from his face as he took in the familiar scarlet uniform that normally dressed only the highest ranked of the Baronian guard, a bevy of tarnished and rusted badges and medals pinned over the jacket's breast. Yet, the man within was not one he had ever seen before – his pale skin was deepening to the same poisoned plum as the still-flailing snake's head, oil-slicked golden locks streaked with blood and god knew what else hanging down the sides of his face. Two close-set, onyx-colored eyes illuminated with hatred as they fell upon Ceodore, the man licking his gouged, wind burned lips and revealing a set of razor-sharpened, jaundiced teeth.

"Cecil…at long last…I could smell your detestable scent as soon as you set foot in this Lunar Subterrane…"

Ceodore didn't even realize he had been flanked by Kain and Rosa, his voice shaking as he raised Excalibur before him, cocking the sword waist-high.

"…I'm not Cecil! Who are you, and how do you know my father!?"

"Not C-Cecil?" he hissed, his tongue briefly retreating back into his mouth before flicking back out again, now transformed into a rubbery, forked appendage that hung from the corner of his mouth. "What is the meaning of thissss? Those eyessss…I would know them anywhere…"

Kain thrust his arm in front of Ceodore, his lance materializing within his hand, and Rosa raised her crossbow to her shoulder, biting her lip.

"Ceodore…this man is no longer human, and he is no friend of your father! Run away, and let Kain and I take care of him!"

"Mother!" Ceodore cried. "Who _is_ he? Why does he wear the Baronian standard?"

The monster cackled delightedly, a set of blackened fingernails on his remaining hand tearing away at the flaking flesh on his face to reveal the slick scales of a reptile. Ceodore felt a firm grip around his arm, and was yanked backwards as Golbez tossed him behind the length of his cape, Cecil's body slung precariously over his shoulder.

"His name was Baigan. He gave himself to darkness…pledged his fealty to myself and Zemus and betrayed your father when I usurped Baron."

"He _was_ the chief guardsman when Cecil and I served the Baronian army," Kain hissed.

"But Cecil defeated you!" Rosa cried, and Baigan blinked erratically, his tongue twitching as his eyes mutated into yellow orbs with slits for pupils.

"And now I am reborn... by the crystal...to finish what should have been done long ago!" With a guttural roar, he tore himself away from the mirror, the crystal shards crumbling to dust beneath his clodhopper feet. The muscles in his arms and chest swelled so fervently that his uniform ripped to shreds and fluttered to the ground, only the battered scabbard of a royal blade hanging from his waist.

 _What does that mean, reborn from the crystal!?_ Ceodore looked up at his father, whose head was hanging over Golbez's back, and was shocked to see Cecil's lips twisted in a pained grimace. The clash of steel exploded in the air as Kain's lance met Baigan's sword, and Cecil's eyes snapped open as a panic-stricken shriek tore from his throat.

* * *

Glittering hail drifted aimlessly through the air, greeting Edge as he opened his eyes. He found himself flattened against the floor, his cape tangled in a mess around his neck and his skin dusted in crystal debris the color of ash.

"What happened?" Gekkou lifted his head from his arms, reaching up to nonchalantly pluck a shard embedded in his arm. "Where did these crystals come from?"

"N-Nevermind that!" Tsukinowa gulped, pointing toward the daises. Next to him, Izayoi was still passed out, and Zangetsu was splayed against the wall, his chin tucked to his chest. "We've got company!"

Edge forced himself through a nauseating wave of pain to twist his body to face the rear of the chamber. A pair of shadows were rising from the crystal remnants that had bounced down the stairs of each dais during the explosion. At first, they were watery, dusky wisps, like smoke rising from a collective of extinguished candles at an altar. But little by little, human features began to fill in, breaking through the drab of gray and taking on a pale, sickly sheen as flesh formed and limbs lengthened. Edge's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as an upsurge of warm, tingling nostalgia ignited his every nerve ending. These shapes were _so_ familiar…he could practically smell the divine mix of matcha-scented perfume and mink stole that would embrace him every time he pressed his cheek to _her_ chest, and recall the trace of every raised line on the calluses of _his_ hands as they gripped his own, their size dwarfing his own even as a grown man.

"Oh, come on…" Edge felt the sting of his tears only after they had begun to fall down his cheek, his throat clenching. "You have got to be kidding me..."

Gekkou was staring ahead, utterly dumbfounded at the scene unfurling before him. Tsukinowa was frozen on his knees, his stare bouncing between Edge, Gekkou and the towering figures that were now gingerly stepping down the dais steps, a pair of dazzling bejeweled crowns resting upon their heads.

"Is the enemy trying to confuse me?" Tsukinowa muttered, mostly to himself. "These two look so familiar…" Gekkou turned to Tsukinowa, his face collapsing in a desolate frown.

"Tsukinowa…those two are…I mean, _were_ …"

Edge lowered his head, suppressing a rising sob as the red-haired woman clutched his chin in her lacquered hand, her fingernails extending into his flesh by a couple of millimeters, their growth stopping just short enough to brand him with crescent moon-shaped markings as she forced him to look into her hollow eyes. Behind her, the silver-haired man tilted his head, his mouth in a flat line as dead, lightless orbs bored hungrily into Edge's fallen form. Edge slowly reached up to press his hand over the woman's, her flesh as cold as diamond dust…

 _Even with you standing before me, I still can't remember your voices anymore… No matter how hard I try to recall, it's all lost to me now…_

 _Before you kill me…please, at least say my name one last time…so that I can take my memories of you in full whenever it is I end up…_

He felt another tear slide down his cheek, and the woman grimaced as it splashed her fingers, snatching her claws back as if she had been burned.

"Mom…Dad...!"


	34. Act Thirty-Four: The Dark Knight's Tale

Act Thirty-Four: The Dark Knight's Tale | The Eternal

Rydia didn't realize someone was standing behind her until she felt the bleak chill of shadow drape over her shoulders. Even so, she didn't raise her head – her gaze was solely focused on the scuffed clay tile of the roofing beneath her curled-up legs. She was exhausted from their hurried and increasingly panicked search of the Feymarch, which had yielded a big, fat nothing in regard to clues about how they had ended up there, how they could escape, and what they were supposed to do next. Unlike _her_ Feymarch – the village she had "grown up" in, this one seemed to stretch on forever – like someone had multiplied the Feymarch of the Blue Planet one-hundred-fold and dropped all the copies into a haphazard map with no rhyme or reason. It made exploring mind-numbing, and with no way to trace their steps, it was hard to tell what progress they were making, if any. That was when Rydia had finally called for a break and climbed onto the rooftop of a nearby house so she could get a sense of direction.

There had been the strange door that Ursula had found – thanks to her, they had at least learned that Ceodore and some of their other friends were alive, although it also meant they were no longer ensconced in the safety of the Lunar Whale. The guilt that overtook Rydia when she realized they had probably come looking for her was agonizing, and nearly made her burst into tears right then and there. To add insult to injury, when Rydia had raced back with Ursula to see if they could make contact once more, the glass in the portal had completely blackened, and no one responded to Ursula's call. Either Ceodore and the others had already moved on, or…

Well, she didn't want to think about the alternative.

 _That portal simply has to be the key to getting out of here,_ Rydia sighed. _But how are we to activate it again?_

And then there was the matter of that glowing red light at the northern border of the village – it had gone unsaid by all that it had become their de facto objective point, but...what exactly was waiting for them there? Friend, foe, or something much more terrifying?

"Rydia?"

Finally, Rydia looked over her shoulder, blinking her vision back into focus – her eyes had crossed from staring too long at meaningless scratches in clay. "Oh...Luca."

Luca plopped down next to Rydia, giving a tendril of her hair a friendly tug. "You all right, space case?"

"Huh?" Rydia shook her head. "Do I not seem all right?"

Luca smiled slightly. "You must have a lot weighing on your mind. Cecil, of course...but also, the fates of the Eidolon King and Queen – at least, that's all this place would make me think about, if I had the same history with it as you."

Well, Luca certainly had her pegged.

"Yes..." Rydia pulled her knees to her chest. "Perhaps it was obvious from the start, considering there was no way we could have been dropped back on the Blue Planet so easily – but this isn't the real Feymarch. It's just a twisted parody, a husk that lacks the true soul of the village and the magic that was its lifeblood. I can feel none of Asura or Leviathan's divine energy…" She bit down on her lip. "…Actually, I haven't been able to feel a thing since I woke up. It's the same kind of numb as when you found me wandering outside of the Feymarch after Asura banished me – even if this isn't the real Feymarch, just being here makes me feel as if I'm betraying her all over again."

Luca shook her head. "You can't give up on Their Highnesses yet, Rydia – not when you've come so far. I know they must be waiting for you right now…just as all the other eidolons did. You don't need a trinket to bring them back from the clutches of that witch – it's what's in your heart that will save them. I have faith in you – and so does Cecil. What would he tell you if he were sitting here right now?"

"…He'd probably be embarrassed and awkward and just sit there in silence until _I_ said something," Rydia smiled weakly. "He wouldn't realize that he doesn't have to say a thing…just being by his side eases my heart in a way that I'll never grow out of. He'll always be my knight, and I think in his eyes, I'm always going to be a little girl from Mist. And I would be so happy if it could just stay that way forever." She closed her eyes, hugging her knees closer. "That's why I have to do whatever I can to help break that girl's curse – she's held the hearts of my dearest loves hostage for far too long."

"You're a good friend, Rydia," Luca beamed. "Both Cecil and I are lucky to have you."

Rydia couldn't help but blush, and gave Luca a shy, grateful grin. "Thank you, Luca... But enough about me for now – you seem like you've been enjoying yourself up here on the moon, especially when you were helping Golbez pilot the Lunar Whale."

Luca tilted her head, blushing along with Rydia. "Is it that obvious? Well, I didn't want to bring it up, since it seems a little inappropriate, given everything that has happened...but there's someone very special to me here, and he just makes my heart feel a million times lighter, no matter how awful things get. I guess he's kind of like _my_ Cecil."

"Wha…?" Rydia blinked, her smile faltering. "You mean…Palom?"

"No!" Luca jumped up, clasping her hands over her mouth and shaking her head hurriedly. "Oh, no, no, no, no! I'm talking about _Master Cid_. There's still so much I still want to learn from that man – it's thanks to him that I'm living a life I could have never dreamed of accomplishing by myself. Can you imagine what things would be like for me if Cid didn't help convince my father to let me take up engineering? Probably boring as hell!"

Rydia let out a discreet sigh, careful not to let her relief show so obviously on her face. "Have you...talked with Palom at all? Since, uh…"

 _Since he totally blew you off in Troia?_

Luca shrugged, crossing her arms. "Ah, it doesn't matter anymore."

Rydia was tempted to ask Luca to repeat herself – she wasn't sure if she had heard correctly. "Huh?"

"Oh, I don't mean anything more than that. _Honestly_. I mean, certainly, I had my fair share of jealously and everything. But now, it just doesn't matter that much to me anymore."

"Luca..." Rydia suddenly felt bad for all the times she openly loathed Luca's crush, or whatever you wanted to call her relationship with Palom. Regardless of how she had felt about the whole thing, she realized that Luca probably felt a million times worse as she had watched whatever they had had fall apart before her eyes – and she had been doing so with a cheerful smile on her face, all while letting Rydia cry on her shoulder about Cecil, the eidolons, and all the rest.

Luca waved her hand dismissively. "Don't look at me like I'm about to jump off this roof and end it all. It's not like I hate him or anything. I've just got other things I need to worry about right now."

"Really?"

"Really! And you know who taught me that? You! Ever since our little heart-to-heart in the Agart Mine, I've been doing some serious thinking about some changes that I want to make after all this is over. I've figured out really quick that we're never guaranteed another day, and I've still got a lot more dreams I've got to make come true for myself before I can settle down and be someone's dream girl. We dwarves don't like dwelling over the small things in life, you know – and Palom is pretty puny! I told that boy he needs to put on some weight, but he just doesn't listen."

"Hee hee..." Rydia couldn't help but giggle. "That's certainly a very dwarven thing to say."

Luca nodded, puffing out her chest. "Well, how 'bout you grow a little dwarven spirit yourself, then? We've still got Cecil to save...along with Asura and all the rest!"

"You're right!" Rydia scrambled to her feet, mimicking Luca's pose and grinning. "This isn't over yet – not by a long shot! And this time, there's so many more of us fighting for our planet – there is no way we're _not_ going to succeed!"

"You two look like a couple of dashing heroes up there!"

Luca and Rydia stared at each other – if they were being perfectly honest, they both looked more like survivors of a dumpster fire at this point in their journey together – and burst into laughter, peering over the ledge of the roof. Yang was standing below, gazing up at them. He raised his hand in a wave, motioning behind him with his head.

"Ursula and Cid have started up again. Are you rested?"

"I feel great," Rydia smiled, and Luca nodded.

"Better than ever, Master Yang!"

"Then we'd best hurry so we can catch up," Yang smiled. "Ursula is eager to find more clues about that door she found."

"More like she's eager to see Ceodore again," Luca smirked, and Rydia watched with amusement as the teasing remark slowly sank through Yang's thick skull, his mustache drooping with the speed of the Lunar Whale shooting into space. His eyes darting away awkwardly, he muttered something along the lines of "that practically being incest" and began to walk away, his back tensely hunched. Rydia tried to stifle her laughter behind her hand, shaking her head.

"Luca…what is it with you and stirring the pot when it comes to drama? Poor Ceodore is going to get the dirtiest look the next time he sees Yang, and he'll have no idea why!"

"I saw the look on Ursula's face when she told us Ceodore was OK," Luca shrugged, as if that excused everything. "Besides, I am still a princess, you know – I was born to be dramatic. All I get to do is talk shop with Master Cid when I'm on the Overworld – he never gives me good gossip, and I know he's got a ton of it. The old man always holds out on me."

 _Oh, you have no idea,_ Rydia thought to herself, shaking her head. If Cid shared even a fraction of the angst-ridden teenage tension he had probably witnessed between Cecil, Rosa and Kain as they were growing up, Luca would never want to leave the shipyard again.

 _But I do understand exactly what you are going through, Luca…I wish I could say that I knew I made the right choices at the crossroads of my life, looking back on everything…but to be honest, I'm still not sure…and I don't know if I ever will be. Am I ever going to be able to live a life without regret?_

 _Edge, you idiot…why are you never around when I actually need you?_

* * *

"Ahhhhhh!" The Queen of Eblan reared back, clutching her skull as a pair of pale pink and green ivory horns tore through her temples and began to grow outward like a pair of twitching antennae, stretching toward the ceiling. Next to her, Edge's father was hunched over, clutching his sides and laughing manically as a black, leathery wing with sharpened tips extending from the fingers exploded from his shoulder blade. The close-trimmed beard along his chin and neck blossomed into a riot of blue-black fur that quickly wove itself over his face like a lion's mane.

Tsukinowa screamed at the transformations unfurling before his eyes, shaking Izayoi's shoulders and begging her to wake up as he concocted a Heal Pill ninjitsu spell. Gekkou hesitated as he reached for his axe, and Edge whirled around to face him, tears blurring his sight and turning Gekkou into a blob of black and red.

"You can't…please! They're my…"

"I would never forget the faces of my late lords, no matter what form they may take," Gekkou frowned. "But Master…!"

He was interrupted as the former king roared and dove forward on all fours, a club-tipped tail shooting outward and wrapping around Edge's neck as he was slammed to the ground and pinned beneath the king's weight. The Queen hissed hungrily, her heart-shaped lips stained green with venom that had begun to drip from freshly-cut fangs as she hovered over her husband's widening shoulders.

"Ugh…!" Edge swung his head wildly as a drop of the venom splashed on his forehead, his skin instantly erupting into a mess of pus-ridden blisters. He bit his lip to contain his scream, clawing at the tightening tail around his neck as his mother leaned in closer, the bottom half of her jaw unhinging ghoulishly. A wiry forked tongue spilled out in a coil, sliding itself along the hollow of Edge's cheek.

 _Forgive me, Edge!_ Gekkou grimaced, raising his axe and aiming it for the dead center of the king's spinal column. _I can't lose you to such a nightmare – may the gods forgive me for turning my weapon on Their Majesties…!_

"Out of the way!"

Gekkou whirled around, startled, as something shiny soared past his head and shattered on the floor surrounding Edge and his parents. A waft of pearlescent smoke billowed around the trio, briefly obscuring them from Gekkou's view. Izayoi had risen to her feet, spitting out a cork from between her teeth as she ran to Gekkou's side. Tsukinowa was now attempting to rouse Zangetsu, his eyes still wide with panic.

"What was that?" Gekkou gasped, waving some of the smoke away from his face. "It's…ugh…rather potent."

"Smelling salts," Izayoi shrugged off her bow, sliding an arrow in place and pulling the string taut in one fluid motion. "An enhanced recipe I've been working to perfect – it uses the cleansing properties of the sea to both stir the body and purify the mind."

"I don't understand."

"Well, if it doesn't do what I'm hoping, then that's what this is for," she nodded toward the readied arrow, her eyes narrowing as the smoke began to dissipate. "Steady now…" Gekkou looked away, muttering a prayer under his breath as he raised his axe once again.

Edge was collapsed on the floor, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched, his nerves alit with anticipation of the deathblow that would finally end it all. Both the King and Queen had frozen in place over him, their transformations halted in a disturbing half-human, half-monstrous state. But the slightest gleam of life could be seen spilling from their gazes, which had taken on the shimmer of familiar, crystalline light.

"Edge…" the king moaned, and Gekkou, Izayoi, and the now-stirring Zangetsu nearly fell over, shocked that the voice of their long-lost lord sounded exactly as they had remembered it, even coming from this horror of a chimera. Tsukinowa struggled under the weight of Zangetsu's form using his shoulders as a crutch, his heart pounding wildly. It was odd, considering he hadn't even been a thought when Master Edge's parents had been in power, but he felt as if he had known them too, once upon a time – hearing Edge's name fall from the lips of this creature sparked a queer sentimentality inside of him – the kind he had always thought he should feel for his own dead father, but never actually had.

"Dad!" Edge's eyes fluttered open, another tear falling down his cheek as he forced himself to sit up, wincing from the stinging wound on his forehead. _He recognizes me…!_

"You've grown…into such a fine man…" the queen fell to one knee, delicately running her claw-like nails through Edge's hair as to not hurt him.

"Mom…" Edge sobbed, pressing his head against her hand and closing his eyes. "Why…why must your souls be desecrated once again? I'm sorry…I'm so sorry!"

The king shook his shaggy head. "Do not wail for us, Edge… We are happy…"

"Yes…" the queen bit down on her lip as she brushed her thumb over Edge's wound, a bead of green trailing from the corner of her mouth. "Happy…that we could see you…once more…the crystal…has granted us a most wonderful gift."

Edge peered up at her, dragging his fist over his running nose. "The crystal?"

"We haven't much more time," the king sighed. "We are but mindless apparitions – yet our souls were drawn back to you from the depths."

"Please… Save Eblan… Save our world…" the queen whimpered, looking up from Edge and peering at the Eblan Four, who were all staring at her, stunned. "And protect Eblan's one and only precious heir!"

"It shall be done, my king…and my queen!" Gekkou swept into a bow, lowering his axe across his abdomen. Izayoi, Zangetsu and Tsukinowa followed suit, closing their eyes.

"Mom!" Edge shook his head. "Please, wait…the crystals…how are they doing this?"

"No matter what this moon shows you, you must continue to believe in the crystals' light," the king's voice drifted into the hum of the tower as his body faded away.

"And the light in the hearts of your friends," the queen smiled, fading alongside him. Edge raced to his feet clumsily, reaching up to grasp the empty air where they had just been standing as their voices echoed in unison from within the chamber walls.

"When all seems lost…you need only to choose _happiness_."

Edge reluctantly lowered his hand, squinting his eyes as the crystal shards vibrated and released a spill of brilliant light that swept through the room. When it all faded away, they were left with a single portal of starlight, the decimated crystals nowhere to be seen and the daises empty once more.

 _You have nothing to worry about! My master is truly your heir in every regard!_ Zangetsu thought, lifting from his bow.

Izayoi wordlessly turned and pulled Tsukinowa into her arms, pressing her lips to his hair as she gazed at Edge over the boy's forehead. _Your Majesties…please, may you rest in peace! I will protect my master – and my family – even if it costs me my life!_

Tsukinowa let himself sink into Izayoi's embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist and closing his eyes. _My lord and lady! It was an honor to have been in your presence!_

Edge shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took in the shimmering portal, and looked to Gekkou, who was watching him expectantly, but patiently, next to it.

 _I still don't get what exactly is happening – but I accept what may become my final mission. To be entrusted with the land that you loved so, so much when you were alive, and loved more so even in death – enough still to tear yourselves away from your heavenly slumber when it falls to crisis once more – perhaps this is the "honor" Gekkou has been going on about that I need to protect._

 _I thank you, Mom and Dad…I know that no matter how many nightmares I awaken from, you'll always be at my side._

* * *

"Father!" Ceodore fell back, clasping his hands to his mouth as Cecil grasped at Golbez's cloak and turned his lightless eyes directly onto Ceodore, empty pools of blue boring into the boy's skull as another scream reverberated off the cavern walls.

Baigan and Kain were exchanging a frenzied series of blows, Rosa desperately trying to keep up with Kain to enchant him with protective magic as he launched himself off of walls and into the air to strike Baigan from above. The former Baronian captain was still quite adept with his sword, even with an amputated limb and body mutated in near-totality – so it was easy for him to dodge most of Kain's advances.

Cecil's flailing had caught Golbez off-guard, and he misfired a Stop spell, the cherry-red paralyzing beam sailing over Baigan's shoulder and smashing into the mirror, shattering the glass over the battlefield. Ceodore swallowed the lump in his throat and attempted to grab at his father's hands to hold them in place, only to be rewarded with another ear-piercing shriek that made Ceodore's blood turn to ice.

 _He must be in horrible pain! Why!?_

Then, quite suddenly, Baigan dropped his sword, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he sank to his knees and attempted to cover his ears with both his stump and his remaining hand, his own guttural wail competing with Cecil's and filling the chamber with an excruciating symphony. Taking advantage of the opening, Kain plunged his lance into Baigan's chest, planting his foot on his shoulder and using the monster's body for leverage as he yanked backwards. A stream of purple ooze erupted from the wound, and Baigan fell onto his back, eyes wide and mouth outstretched in a silent scream.

"Oh my gods," Ceodore muttered at the sight of Baigan's seizing body, not noticing that Cecil's hands had gone limp in his own. Kain sheathed his weapon, and Rosa approached Baigan's right side, her crossbow aimed directly at his forehead as she leaned over him.

"Pleassssse...while I still have life..." Baigan hacked, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. "Beware… It still livesssss…"

"What still lives?" Golbez demanded. But it was all over – no sooner did Baigan's head hit the ground did his body disappear in a haze of ebony, crystalline fog, the crystal and mirror shards crushed beneath his form dissolving into flecks of light. Behind him, the broken glass of the mirror transformed into a rippling blanket of stars, and when Kain hesitatingly brushed his fingers over the portal, a delicate surge of radiance raced up his arm.

"He said he was…reborn from the crystal?" Kain raised his hand to his face, wiggling his fingers. They hadn't been hurt from the light, but now they felt tingly, and an almost… _anxious_ sensation had overtaken his body. Like his mind had been jolted into overdrive, and he was on the cusp of remembering something critical…

"So that's why there was shattered crystal everywhere," Rosa sighed, lowering her bow. "Ceodore…what did you see when you came out here?"

Ceodore explained the state of the crystal and the mirror when he had arrived, revealing that he had been able to make contact with Ursula before Baigan had attacked.

"The crystal must have shattered shortly after we teleported into this place," Golbez frowned. "Baigan sensed Cecil's presence, escaped from the crystal, and decided to lie in wait. But what he didn't realize is that while the real Cecil was here, he was attacking the wrong man."

 _He was hiding in the mirror this whole time, waiting to kill my father?_ Ceodore shuddered involuntarily. _When he saw my eye peering into the crystal – that's when he must have mistaken me for Cecil. As soon as Ursula left, he made his move…_

"And Cecil reacted to him, too," Kain shook his head. "Somehow he _knew_ that was Baigan…and it was Cecil's scream that disabled him."

"It almost seemed as if Baigan had come to his senses before he passed," Rosa murmured. "He said "beware" …like he was trying to warn us about something." She turned to Golbez and Cecil, who was limp once again in Golbez's arms.

"But how could someone that Father defeated seventeen years ago be here now?" Ceodore warily watched Cecil's sleeping face as he spoke, waiting for his haunted eyes to snap back open and consume him whole. "It's got to be some sort of illusion – the crystals can't bring back the dead."

"I don't know," Kain muttered. _Why would Cecil react so strongly to a mere illusion?_

Golbez lowered his head, silently clenching and releasing his fist beneath his cape to the rhythm of his little brother's shallow, but at-last steady breathing.

 _Perhaps I am splitting hairs…but there's a difference between bringing back the dead and being reborn…isn't there?_

* * *

"Are you having any luck, Edward?"

"Not yet…same as a minute ago, my dear. Are you just checking up on us?"

"…Um, nope. Not at all."

Porom was a fairly terrible liar – for a while, she had been afraid that perhaps her miscreant brother's habit of slinging falsehoods like one took in breath was rubbing off on her, but it was almost a relief to realize that she was now only becoming good at lying in certain situations, where perhaps it was warranted – she recognized that this was not one of those times and that she was as transparent as a freshly-washed pane of glass.

Palom rolled his eyes, and Porom bit her lip, trying to hold back every impulse she had to not turn around and smack him in the face.

"We'll contact _you_ when we've found something," Edward was trying to be oh so very patient with her – the gods bless the man for his delicate sensibilities. "You're still not in danger, right?"

"No," Porom sighed. It was quite the opposite, actually – they were cozily trapped in a perfectly benign room with no monsters, no traps, and nary a threat. After they had stepped through the portal, they had been rather anticlimactically deposited on another floor of the Tower of Babil. After trying a few doors that all seemed to be sealed shut, they had finally come across the doorway to the room they were in now – except that nothing had been inside, and now they were seemingly locked in by the same force that had kept them out of the other rooms.

Meanwhile, Edward and Harley revealed via the whisperweed that they had ended up, in their words, "in yet another tower – similar to Babil, but not quite the same". After relentless grilling from Porom, Harley had started ignoring the whisperweed, effectively cutting them off. It wasn't until Porom, Palom and Leonora had gotten themselves trapped that their counterparts had opened up the lines of communication again, promising to find a way to release them from wherever they had ended up.

Porom set aside the whisperweed, pressing her back against the glass wall and letting out a low sigh. Leonora was curled up on the floor a few feet away, using her miter as a pillow and passed out, having used up the remainder of her energy dithering and worrying about what people would think if they found her dead body trapped in a room alone with a man. _(What am I, a ghost?)_ Porom had mused in disbelief. _(And shouldn't you be more worried about the actual_ _ **being dead**_ _part in your bizarre stress fantasies?)_

Palom was mindlessly playing with a Fire spell in his hands, the shadows that normally occupied his chestnut eyes temporarily banished by the glow of the dancing flames. Porom wondered if she should say anything about Palom potentially sucking up precious oxygen in the closed room by feeding it to his spell, but figured such a comment would end up with one of them (well, _him_ ) getting punched, and decided to stick to a less controversial train of thought.

"I really should have stayed behind," Porom murmured, cognizant of Leonora's steadily rising and falling chest as she lowered her voice. The girl looked positively wiped – best to let her sleep for as long as possible. "I knew it all along."

Palom kept his eyes on the flame before him, barely shaking his head. "Don't worry. I'm sure the elder's fine. Other people can take care of themselves, you know – you don't have to nanny everyone."

Porom lowered her chin to her chest, letting the insult roll off her back. It would have been much worse, in her opinion, if she had been accused of the opposite – not caring enough. "That's not all I'm worried about. You know how terrible things are down there."

Palom finally put the fire out by folding his hands together, smothering it between his fingers. "That's why we're here right now. We _need_ to save Cecil and stop this moon."

 _I know what we need to do_ , she thought miserably. _I'm just not sure I can do it…I couldn't even save our crystal from being taken in the first place. I couldn't save_ _ **him**_ _, either…_

Palom crawled over to her, shoving his face into hers even as she refused to look up at him. "You think the Elder's gonna keel over and die just like that? Come on! That's not the Elder I know. He survived raising me, for gods' sake. He can handle anything else no problem."

Porom couldn't help but smile a little – as ridiculous as that sounded to compare the end of the world to being an adoptive father of twin magical prodigies, Palom was totally on the nose. "Yes... I suppose you're right."

Palom watched as she glanced down at what had been her injured hand, her fingers hurriedly brushing over a twisted mess of metal he spied on her pinky finger. He felt something funny flip-flop in his stomach as he caught a familiar flash of chintzy gold in the aseptic light of the room.

"You're acting kind of weird, you know that?" he muttered, and she finally looked up at him, chewing on her lower lip.

"Listen, Palom. You still want to become a sage, right?"

"Huh!?" he fell back on his rear in surprise. "What're you bringing that up for, all of a sudden?"

"You respect Tellah and you to follow in his footsteps...right?"

"I...well, how am I supposed to know!? Not at a time like this, no!" He scratched his head, glancing over his shoulder at Leonora to make sure she hadn't awoken. He would die of embarrassment if she heard them right now.

Porom flushed. "I'm sorry. You're right." She shifted her weight, pushing herself up onto her knees. As she did so, he watched her hand again, now unguarded, and felt as if someone had knocked the air out of his lungs.

 _She still has my… After all this time…?_

Palom took one last look at Leonora before dropping his voice another octave – Porom could barely hear his whisper over the hum of the energy that powered the hateful tower. "I kind of realized something when I left Mysidia, though."

"...Oh?" Porom blinked. "What's that?"

"There're other people out there with the talent for that title…not just me."

Porom could hear his heart pounding from a mile away. "You mean...Leonora?"

He blushed, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Yeah. It kills me to admit it, but..."

Porom drew in a sharp breath, smiling with him. "Well, that's a rare sight...seeing you compliment someone."

"I'm not complimenting her, okay!? She's my apprentice!" Palom crossed his arms over his chest, his usual sneer wiping the smile clean from his face. Porom giggled behind her hand, shaking her head.

"What!?"

"Oh, I'm just glad you're still the same old Palom…it feels like so much has changed as of late, after all."

"Maybe not as much as you would think," Palom huffed, nodding toward the scorched and melted rings on her hand. "Care to explain what you're doing wearing my ring? You know, that old Twin Meteor magic trick doesn't work without two bearers, right? Or is your memory finally slipping at the ripe ol' age of twenty-two?"

Now it was Porom's turn to blush. She gingerly twisted one of the two rings off her finger, holding it up between them and peering through the warped band into Palom's eyes.

"While you were gone…I got a little scared. The Elder had asked me to return to Mount Ordeals to find Kain, and all I could think about how the last time I had been there, expecting to never return, I had had at least you by my side. I thought maybe if I took what I had left of you with me, the mountain would accept my soul once again and let me return to Mysidia whole. I guess you could say I succumbed to superstition."

"Superstition, sure," Palom drawled, plucking the ring away and jamming it on his pinky – the only finger of his on which it would fit, same as her. He held it up, doing a pretentious wrist-flick of a wave. "Or you missed me."

Porom clasped her hand over her mouth, her eyes watering as she took in their matching fingers. Never again in her lifetime had she thought the two of them would have a reconciliation like this – and it had only taken the end of the world to bring it about. "I might have missed you _a little_. Probably not as much as you missed me."

Palom reddened at the sight of his sister crying, and turned away, praying that now would not be the time Leonora chose to rise from her catnap as he blinked away a few tears of his own. "Ah, forget it! Let's just go help that guy and get this thing over with already!"

Porom tilted her head, laughing through a sob. "You mean Cecil?"

"Yes! Cecil! Whatever!"

* * *

Ceodore was the last to step through the portal's light, his heart having leapt into his throat from the journey as he dropped onto a cold flagstone path, a totally different sensation from what he had just been getting used to treading the dust-ridden, nearly-silent Lunar Subterrane. The journey through the portal had felt remarkably similar to the Devil's Road, with the exception of him not being forced to concentrate on his desired destination this time. Even so, he was mentally drained as if he had been doing just that, and he felt his knees buckle threateningly beneath him as he took his first timid steps forward. He spun around, watching as the portal collapsed in on itself and disappear in a final flash of light.

 _Well, no turning back now._

Kain raised an eyebrow as he took a long look in the room they had been dropped off in – although it was rather more like a corridor. Ivory brick surrounded them with a couple lit torches, the only doorway in sight several paces away. Twin stone statues flanked each side of the door, each one the size of a small child with hands extended toward the walls – despite the wear in the stone, they were so lifelike that Ceodore could have sworn for a moment that two kids really were in the room with them, demonstrating an impossible feat of strength.

"Where are we?" Ceodore frowned, and Kain stared at him in disbelief.

"You don't recognize your own home?"

"…What?"

"It's the antechamber in Baron Castle," Rosa said softly.

"Is this a joke?" Ceodore crossed his arms. "The same antechamber we just fought a massive battle in not so long ago? This is a quarter of the size, and we've never had statues like these in the castle for the entirety of my life." He turned to face Golbez, so confused that he forgot to be nervous. "You were just in the castle too – this doesn't look right to you, does it?"

Golbez knitted his brows together, looking past Ceodore toward the closed throne room before them.

"Well, that's because this castle is from before you were born."

He pushed forward, ignoring Ceodore's dumbstruck stare as he unceremoniously dropped Cecil into Kain's arms and reached for the door handles. Kain, not expecting the exchange, staggered a bit under Cecil's weight as he gathered himself and called after Golbez.

"Wait! What are you doing?"

"I know what's coming next – stay here if you want to live."

"Stop!" Rosa gasped, but he had already disappeared, pulling the doors shut behind him with a solid "bang". She turned to Kain, shaking her head.

"What's waiting for us this time?"

"If only I could remember," Kain frowned, staring down at Cecil. "What would be waiting for us that only Golbez would know about?"

"…Oh no," Rosa gulped, cutting him off as she vaguely recalled the story Cecil had told her about his return to Baron after she had been kidnapped by Golbez. She yanked the doors open. "There's no time…let's go!"

Golbez was standing in the center of Cecil's throne room – although Ceodore supposed if it really was from before he was born, that it meant it wasn't Cecil's chamber at all – it would have belonged to the king who reigned before him, the man who had transformed himself into Odin when he had been murdered by Golbez. But the room itself didn't appear to be so different from what he was used to – it just felt emptier without the usual cavalcade of guards hanging around, had a lot less flowers and cheery touches that made it actually look lived-in, and a throne was missing that would have been for his mother. The previous king had never married, nor had he ever bore an heir.

Even so, the most obvious difference was the heavy-hanging ebony crystal floating above the sole throne, a flurry of hairline cracks racing up its face. Even without having properly witnessed Baigan's rebirth, Ceodore and the others knew what was to come next.

"Wh-where are you!?" Ceodore growled, withdrawing Excalibur. "Show us your face!"

Golbez clenched his fists, not bothering to look at any of them. "I told you – stay away!"

But before anyone could argue, one of the cracks in the crystal gave way to a deep gouge, the formidable roar of raging water filling the atmosphere as a spray of briny sea burst out of the gouge and began to pour all over the throne and cascade down the stairs where Golbez was waiting, swishing over his bare feet. The crystal gave way to more cracks, each one spouting a new stream of water that went shooting out in different directions, filling the throne room with a shallow pool that was steadily rising by the minute.

There came the sound of grinding glass, and the crystal finally shattered from the pressure of the escaping water, bursting into countless fragments as an inky shadow deposited from the crystal into the throne, glistening navy flesh the consistency of patent leather drawn tightly over an oblong, grinning skull. Behind the creature's head, a massive azure and sapphire-encrusted shell formed, four bowed legs protruding forth, two on each side. The throne collapsed in on itself beneath the weight of the beast, and he scuttled forward down the stairs, teeth gnashing as he made a beeline for Golbez.

A painful flash of memory from when he had been bewitched by Golbez jolted Kain as a swirl of water climbed up his calves. "This is an elemental archfiend!" he cried, leaping backward without a moment to spare as the creature's lumbering mass sent a human-sized wave of water barreling toward him and Cecil.

"The Drowned King, Cagnazzo," Golbez replied, his tone laced with a twinge of sadness as he blasted a Blizzaga spell directly in the monster's face. The force of the ice explosion sent Cagnazzo rolling backward in his shell, sending it spinning across the floor as another surge of water rushed the room. Rosa cast Slow on Cagnazzo in an attempt to stymie the storm waters – but they just continued to pour down upon the party from the ceilings and walls without pause.

Ceodore desperately waded to the throne room doors, fearful of the rapidly rising pool-turned-ocean surrounding them that had no place to drain. But when he tried pulling on the latch…

"The doors are locked!" Ceodore shrieked. "The room is going to fill up with water…!"

"We can shoot out the windows!" Rosa exclaimed, raising her bow and arrow toward the beautiful picture windows behind the crushed throne. Just as she was about to release the first arrow, a powerful cyclone of water crashed upon her, the undertow that was gravitating toward Cagnazzo's spinning shell dragging her under the swell.

"Mother!" Ceodore cried, abandoning Excalibur and inhaling deeply before diving under the surf to swim to her. Kain cursed under his breath, being forced to leap to yet another corner of the room and realizing very quickly that there was not any safe place he could possibly stash Cecil – he reluctantly admitted to himself that he should have listened to Golbez and stayed outside.

The waters that were being drawn toward Cagnazzo had begun to form a towering wall around the fiend, the water mixing with Golbez's Blizzaga spell and creating an impenetrable shield that no weapon could pierce. Ceodore surfaced with Rosa moments before she was drawn beneath the rising barrier, hacking mouthfuls of water as he tried to claw his way back to the others against the direction of the tide, her unresponsive head slumped against his shoulder.

"Just a little more…" Golbez muttered, mid-incantation. His eyes were trained on Ceodore and Rosa, counting down to the last possible second he would have to intervene and abandon his spell. He mentally urged Ceodore to find the strength to swim faster – if he had to start over with his magic, it might be too late. In moments, Cagnazzo would release the gathering waters and turn upon them a gargantuan tidal wave, along with a guaranteed drowning.

Kain spotted Ceodore and Rosa emerging from the water out of the corner of his eye, clutching Cecil against his shoulder as he dashed across the water and let out a forced laugh.

"Your debts continue to pile up, old friend...!"

Extending his free hand, he summoned the holy lance to his side, extending it as far as he could manage as he locked his shaking legs to keep himself from being pulled away too. Ceodore whimpered as he made one last-ditch effort to surge forward, his fingers just barely grasping the soaked ribbons dangling from the lance's vamplate before Kain yanked back, reeling the two of them in like the catch of the day.

At that moment, Golbez released his spell, a powerful Thundaga bolt that ripped from the heavens far beyond the castle, penetrating the ceiling above Cagnazzo and sending both a chandelier and a massive pile of rubble crashing into him. The force of the electrical storm decimated the water wall, releasing a cloud of steam into the air between the fiend and the party.

Cagnazzo growled menacingly as his fried, smoking maw emerged from the depths of his shell. He fixed his milky, pupil-less eyes on Golbez through the haze as a slow grin formed, a collision of golden teeth exposed thanks to his severe underbite. "Is this…death? Yes…my sleep was disturbed… Hah…hah… Now…I can sleep again…"

Golbez lowered his hands, offering Cagnazzo a slight smile of his own. "Sleep in peace... for I, too, may join you in your hell someday."

At the sound of Golbez's voice, Cagnazzo's eyes came to life, the creature eagerly dragging himself forward a few pathetic paces before collapsing in a fried heap. "I knew I'd felt such power once before…! Master Golbez...! It is an honor... to meet you again... Words cannot... express..."

But before he could finish his sentiments, death relinquished the hold on his agony, shading the whites of his eyes an opaque gray before the rest of his body began to dissolve into the same familiar crystalline fog as Baigan. The remaining water in the room gathered around the fiend's fallen form, swirling into a dizzying whirlpool before draining away and revealing a brand-new portal embedded in the throne room floor.

 _"Master" Golbez…_ Ceodore turned his gaze away awkwardly as he busied himself by reviving his mother with a Raise spell. _Golbez used to…control creatures like that? I knew he was powerful, but…!_

"What is going on here?" With a flick of his hand, Kain's lance disappeared, and he kneeled behind Ceodore and Rosa, gently resting Cecil next to them on the floor. He was sleeping so peacefully that Kain could almost swear he saw a smile on his friend's lips – it was the complete opposite of his freak-out with Baigan. "Why are the crystals bringing forth our past enemies?"

"I know not," Golbez sighed. "But the other archfiends are not far behind, I'm sure. If the others encounter them…"

"They'll be…OK…" Rosa coughed, her eyes fluttering open as a deluge of filthy water sputtered out of her throat. "We've beaten them before…we can do it again." She slowly pushed herself into an upright position, covering her mouth as she coughed again and took in Cecil's sleeping form.

 _Oh, Cecil…! Are you seeing any of this…?_

Golbez eyed the portal that had opened underneath Cagnazzo's corpse, silently kneeling to take Cecil back into his arms.

 _That creature had Cagnazzo's sway over water…was susceptible to his weaknesses…in the end, he even spoke with Cagnazzo's voice… But for him to take so long to recognize me…_

 _…Our enemy has their claws in something far more sinister than merely reviving the dead._

* * *

Edward tucked away the whisperweed in his vest pocket, the smile he had forced to keep his tone light and airy with Porom falling away as soon as their connection was cut off. He loved the girl dearly despite her being a chronic worrier and planner. She reminded him much of Harley when she had been her age – the young woman who had landed on his doorstep seventeen years ago had been ready to take over the world, and he saw much of the same spirit in the white mage.

But it hadn't just been Porom's – ahem – _overly-attentive_ concerns about his and Harley's safety that were eating away at him. His mind had been racing non-stop ever since he, Ceodore, Cid and Kain had chased after the dark dragoon and had come face-to-face with Cecil's madness. Being spirited away when Harley had activated the portal had given him his first taste of peace in what felt like days, giving his mind ample opportunity to overwhelm him with fear once again.

It had been Harley that had figured out she and himself had been transported into a separate tower from the others – something about the pattern of the flashing lights had been the giveaway to her fine-tuned mind, but neither she nor Edward knew of another such structure's existence back on the Blue Planet. And now that Porom had let them know they had gotten themselves trapped, the pressure was on to find a way out and to free the others. He had been wandering about the twisted corridors, wincing every time he turned a corner in anticipation of something horrible waiting for him on the other side.

Harley had talked a big game on their behalf when Porom had fretted about their splitting up, but all he could think about was how his last solo adventure had nearly ended in disaster – he had only escaped from the bandit in the underground waterway because he had fallen off the damn bridge like a clumsy fool and somehow managed _not_ to drown. There was no such dumb luck here that could save him, and practically no place to hide if they did encounter an enemy.

"My lord."

Edward blinked at the calm voice, turning around. He hadn't realized he had stopped walking and had been staring at the same blank wall for god knows how long. "Harley?"

She appeared behind him, her boots echoing on the floor with finality as she smiled slightly. "Taking a break?"

"Not exactly," Edward shook his head. "Just lost in thought, I guess."

"I see," she nodded as if this was a perfectly logical response to have in the middle of a crisis, reaching into her coat. "In that case…I know it is late, but I was wondering if I might be able to hear a song tonight." When her hand reappeared, she held within a petite golden harp with a spray of emeralds inset at the neck.

Edward's eyebrows shot to the ceiling. "Where did you get that?"

"I brought it along when Rydia and the others picked me up," Harley said, handing it over. "Knowing that you had lost your harp in the waterway, I feared you had run off after Kain and Cecil without one. And of course, I was right – I found your spare at the foot of your bed, as expected."

She found her cheeks tinging pink as the lie fell from her lips. Although it was true that she knew Edward well enough to predict he would do something as ridiculous as rushing into battle without a weapon, she of course had had no idea that Rydia and the others would come to see her. She had taken the harp of her own accord after he had left to keep something of his close to her until he had returned home. But now that the real Edward was with her once more, she realized she no longer needed it, and that it was time to come clean – sort of.

 _My spare._ Edward's lips twisted as his fingertips gingerly strummed the C-note strings. That was what he had always told Harley that's all this harp was – but the truth was, it had been a relic he had cast away shortly before they had met that had mysteriously made its way to him again. When Anna had died, he had left the harp with her body when he fled Damcyan to join Cecil and Rydia in finding a Sand Pearl for Rosa. It had been the first harp he had ever owned, the instrument that made him fall in love with music and the very same harp he had been playing the night he had met Anna.

But whoever the kind stranger had been that had eventually stumbled across Anna's body and had given her a proper burial while Edward was recovering in Troia had decided not to bequeath the harp to Anna in the afterlife. With most of the castle destroyed, the good Samaritan had instead hidden the harp in the castle's former dungeon for safety, one of the only parts of the castle still standing after Golbez had razed it. When one of the children responsible for cleaning out the dungeons had come across the instrument and brought it to Edward, he distinctly remembered feeling as if he had been visited by a ghost. Of course, he had never been able to throw it away, and even after taking it to Anna's grave several times with the intention of leaving it behind, the harp had never quite left his grasp. So, he had ended up hiding it in plain sight – stashing it away in his bedroom like one would a forgotten tchotchke, always close enough to remind him of his ultimate failure.

"A song?" Edward choked. At a time like this? She couldn't have been serious.

But Harley, for as long as he had known her, had never _not_ been serious – so what she said next was totally expected.

"Yes," Harley nodded. She watched unflinchingly as he lowered the harp to his side and turned his back to her.

"I... was thinking about giving up the harp, actually," Edward muttered, and she blinked, pushing her glasses up her nose, as if that would correct her obviously botched hearing.

"What?"

He could only bring himself to stare at his scuffed boots – even his own darting reflection in the pristine glass tiles at his feet filled him with shame at his cowardice. Yes, he had been doing a lot of thinking ever since his harp had been lost to him – what had once seemed to be an unfortunate accident was starting to take shape as what he interpreted to be a sign from the universe – from his Anna. For a brief moment, he had been overjoyed that he had been able to save Harley, empowered that he alone had been able to penetrate Baron's borders where stronger men than he had failed – but all of that had been quickly stripped away when Kain's attack reminded him that he was a nothing, that he could protect no one, and that ultimately everything he loved would just be taken from him once again, given enough time. He closed his eyes, daring himself not to snap the harp's strings between his fingers that very moment.

"One cannot create music when with a heart as disturbed as mine is."

"Disturbed, my lord?" Harley pressed her fingers to her lips, feeling as if an arctic wind had wrapped itself around her lungs as she unwittingly took a step forward.

"Harley," Edward sighed, lifting his gaze – he could see her pools of navy staring at him wondrously in the reflection of the glass, and that was about as much as he could bear to look at her. "A bard is a man who spins the threads of the past into a musical melody. But I, myself, have yet to come to terms with my past experiences. Not even now."

Harley gritted her teeth, not liking the rise of ugly thoughts that had taken residence in her heart at that moment – a dash of jealousy, tinged with simultaneous disgust and longing. Her rational brain recognized all of those feelings for what they were – but her emotional brain was awash with confusion and heartbreak. It was the same convoluted emotions she had experienced when her parents had died – how many times had she both selfishly and horrifyingly wished it had been her to die instead, how many nights had she spent cursing random strangers in the streets of Troia because everything they had ever known and loved was not sullied by the flames of war?

But she had finally arisen from the ashes of destruction, had found her purpose, had found what it was she had quite possibly been left on this planet to achieve – what only she, and no other woman in the world, could do. Her own spiritual rebirth had kindled the revival of an entire nation – and she was reminded that purpose was still not yet fulfilled – not as long as her liege still remained tethered to the ghosts of the past.

 _Never mind this strange ache in my heart – the heart…no, the very soul – of Damcyan herself cries in agony alongside her king…even if we do save the planet, Damcyan will not be long for this world as long as Edward suffers so._

Rational Harley won out, and she extinguished the rage in her gaze as she rested her hands on her hips. She was amazed at the tenacity and stillness of her tone even as the words tumbled out in an anxious spill. "Well...what makes you think that matters at all?"

"Mmm?" Edward bit his lip, _something_ in Harley's voice finally bringing himself to turn around and face her. She was staring at him unflinchingly, the slightest stain of pink rising in the apples of her cheeks. Her normally impeccable, severe bun was hanging at the nape of her neck, stray strands of shiny azure framing her face, and he could see the tiniest smudge in the reflection of the pulsing tower light in her glasses. One of the fasteners on her jacket had been ripped away, exposing a slender curve of the purple tunic beneath. Her leggings were scuffed and torn, exposing snippets of alabaster, smooth skin.

Never before had he seen her so utterly… _exposed_. Laid bare. His mind flashed back to Harley agonizing in the throes of fever in Kaipo, and he realized that the woman standing before him now of sound mind and body was yet more vulnerable than the wisp of a girl on her deathbed.

And the chaos in his heart rose to a fever pitch.

Harley pursed her lips. "People are soothed by your song, my lord... They learn from it, and they are emboldened by it. I too…am no exception to that."

Edward's heart skipped a beat – her name came out as a hushed whisper. "Harley..."

She reached up, removing her glasses as eyelashes began to glisten with tears. On auto-pilot, she stroked the lenses with the hem of her coat as she kept her eyes trained on his. "My lord... Do you still wish to deny your gift? Would you ignore everything you have accomplished, even now?"

"No, that's not what…"

"You know well, of course, that I lost both of my parents in the last war."

He knew – she had said as much in her letter to him, after all, but it had also been an unspeakable pleasure to learn every little thing he could about her when the chancellor had forced a background check before she could be formally hired on as his aide.

But it turned out, he didn't know _everything_ about her past after all.

"But I still found hope in my life to keep on living...thanks to your song," Harley smiled slightly through her tears. "The first night I heard it – much like you, I suppose, my heart was disturbed. I was still mourning the loss of my parents, and yet I had just been gifted with the promise of a new family – the ring weighed heavily on my hand as I crossed the entryway gardens of Troia Castle. But when I heard the mourning notes of your song coming from the west most tower, something inside of me came alive. I didn't realize it at the time, but it was the spark of new light – the birth of a star inside my heart."

Edward's eyes widened. _Harley was engaged to be wed? And to have heard my song in Troia…that was long before I came home from the war. Could that mean…?_

"And your song…your hope…it's what lead me back _home_ to Damcyan," Harley flushed. "I know now that if the past had been any different from what it turned out to be... Then this moment, this instant in time would be irrevocably changed, I imagine, from what we are living right now. So please…don't…"

She was interrupted when Edward suddenly threw his arms around her, pressing her head to his shoulder as he buried his lips in her hair. She closed her eyes, her fingers sinking into his cape as her words became muted by warmth of his body against her mouth.

"You are right..." Edward murmured, resisting with everything he had to not inhale all of her scent. "I'm so sorry, Harley…you've suffered as much as I, and yet you've always been so much stronger. If I could only draw from your well of strength…I…"

A sheen of ebony light washed over Edward, and Harley blinked away her tears, glancing up. A glimmering crystal had arisen behind them, a depthless black that seemed to somehow suck in all of the artificial light coursing in the tower's walls. Edward caught the gasp in Harley's throat and whirled around, his own throat clenching as a massive fracture suddenly ripped through the crystal, a howl of wind tossing back Edward and Harley's hair as the crystal shattered and gave birth to a lithe shadow.

The shadow writhed as it poured upward from the floor beneath the broken crystal shards, taking the shape of two long, svelte legs that melded into concave hips and a chest that looked as if it had been hand-carved from the marble of statuesque goddess. A bounty of yellow hair sprung from the top of the shadow, spinning around the forming body like a vortex as the creature's face finally came into view – lamp-like yellow-green eyes were fixated on Edward and Harley, pink pouty lips slicked with gloss and a slightly upturned nose wrinkling in confusion. The woman – or whatever she was – before them was stunning, in a feral way. Her mouth curled into a wicked grin, exposing a slightly crooked left incisor, as the vortex of hair fell away from her body and exposed a tiny strip of ebony steel that composed of her bikini top, an even tinier strip gracing her pelvis acting as the corresponding bottom.

"W-Who are you?" Edward blinked, and the woman laughed in response, her chest heaving so vigorously that Harley was concerned she might lose an eye.

"I…Yes…I am an archfiend!" she declared, her voice shaking with a strange hesitance. "You may call me Barbariccia!" Raising her hands, the entire room suddenly became engulfed in a maelstrom of wind, her hair wrapping back around her body as Edward and Harley were effortlessly lifted from their feet and slammed into the wall ten feet behind them. Harley screamed as her head smashed into the plated glass, feeling her glasses crunch in half between her clenched fingers. Edward grimaced through the pain, his mind reeling as spills of black bloomed in his vision.

"She must be…the fiend who controls wind!" Edward moaned, and Harley looked over at him, her body wincing with effort.

"Fiend?"

"Cecil told me about them…archfiends who once followed Golbez and held sway over each of the elements," he explained. "Same as the crystals…a fiend that controls Fire, Water, Earth and Wind."

"But that would mean Cecil would have defeated her during the war," Harley gasped. "So how could she be here, now?"

"The Empress of the Tower of Zot is not slain so easily," Barbariccia hissed, a ribbon of hair suddenly shooting forth and wrapping around Harley's neck. Harley let out another scream as she was lifted from the floor and drawn back to Barbariccia, her fingers grasping at the rapidly replicating fibers of silken hair cutting off her oxygen supply.

"Harley!" Edward cried, forcing himself to his feet as Barbariccia let escape another peel of laughter and sent another torrent of gales Edward's way, throwing him back into the wall as Harley's kicking feet began to stiffen and fade into a pale gray. He realized through the blinding wind that Harley's strength was failing her as the pallor raced up her leggings and hips – she was gradually being petrified! Harley tossed her head back, desperately gasping for breath as her lips began to turn blue. At this rate, she would likely suffocate before she had completely turned to stone.

 _What can I possibly do?_ Edward frowned, his hand brushing over the knife hanging from his waist as he pictured the blade severing the weave of hair gushing from the fiend. _There's no way I can get near her with this thing…and if I throw it, the winds will return it right to my chest._

The howl of the wind grew louder, and Edward clenched his teeth, forced to turn away from Harley's suffering as the gales stung his eyes mercilessly.

 _Cecil told me that Kain and Barbariccia had struck up a rivalry when he was under Golbez's thrall – it was only Kain's ability to fight in the air that saved them from her wrath the first time. If only I had a way to fight in the air as well…!_

"Ed…ward…!" Harley whimpered. Her cry was barely audible over the storm, and yet Edward had managed to pick up on it immediately – it had been the first time in his life that she had ever called him by his name to his face without an honorific or title. He felt his fingertips grow hot, and looked down at his left hand, which was still, somehow, clinging to the harp Harley had brought him. As Harley's voice drifted over the wind, the strings on the harp resonated ever so slightly, glowing a pale blue.

"What the…" Edward whispered, lifting the harp with much effort as the winds tried to pin him back against the wall.

 _Maybe I can't fight in the air, like Kain…but my music can be carried across the planet using air and soundwaves…just like when I broke the Dark Elf's control over his magnetic field…_

He turned slightly to shield the harp and his hands from the wind, closing his eyes as he tried to recall a certain bard song he had learned long, long ago. He knew songs for disarming fey, like the Dark Elf – but this archfiend was way beyond the power level of a monster like that. He knew songs for sleep, for vigor, and for stamina – but the song he was searching for in the archives of his memory was one that he had not played since he had been engaged to Anna – he had not needed to use it since Anna had passed away seventeen years prior.

It had been difficult for her to sneak out and about to see him for their clandestine dates – even more difficult than it was for him. As rarely-seen royalty, Edward could usually sneak about donning his bard disguise, and most villagers wouldn't believe that their prince was just randomly mingling in the village even if he was recognized. But Anna was well-known and much-loved as the daughter of the Great Sage Tellah and recognized by everyone in the village – she couldn't sneeze without someone informing her father.

And so, Edward had learned of and tirelessly practiced a song with origins in Eblanese ninjitsu magic – a song that would cast an illusion on the listener and cause them to be seen as someone else for as long as he played. It was usually just enough to help Anna slip through the streets without being stopped or seen, and once they were free of Kaipo's borders, Edward would cease the music and whisk her away in his hovercraft to Damcyan.

 _I don't know this Barbariccia, or how she could appear in a place like this...but there may be one person that could talk her down from this madness – someone on this very moon that may have unknowingly awakened her from her slumber._

A melancholy tune with striking, eerie notes began to dance over the strings of the harp, Edward's eyes still closed as he let himself drown in the terror he had experienced upon first laying eyes on Golbez. He had been a man that had filled the entirety of the sky, his cloak lined in the deepest nightshade billowing in the wind of the airship he was commandeering as volleys of flame engulfed Damcyan. Edward had only been able to observe him for a few moments through the destroyed roof of the throne room before he heard Anna's dying cry, her falling body pierced with an arrow that had been meant for him.

As the music rode the winds swirling about the chamber in what was quickly forming into a massive tornado, Barbariccia clutched at her face, digging her fingertips into her temples as she sank to her knees, her hair quickly retreating back into her scalp and dropping a half-petrified Harley to the floor. Harley grunted as her stone-leaden half crashed into the tiles, gasping for breath and pressing her fingers into the raw, reddened flesh around her throat. Barbariccia crawled to Harley on her hands and knees, lowering her head as spun gold poured over her bare white shoulders.

"Master Golbez…I thank you for coming here... Now, I am myself once again..."

"Huh?" Harley blinked, her now totally-loose hair fluttering back down over her face and shoulders as the winds began to die. Barbariccia reached up gingerly, cupping Harley's face and brushing her fingers through Harley's thick waves. Harley glanced back at Edward in muted horror, and Edward shot her a look that said _"Just go with it!"_ , nodding toward the harp he was strumming. Harley didn't quite get what was happening, but realizing that Edward's music probably had something to do with her no longer being choked to death, she decided to resist challenging him – just for this one time.

"Barbariccia…" Harley began, her tongue tripping over the fiend's name as she struggled to think of what to say that wouldn't send her into a literal tailspin – something that Golbez might say, too, so she would not break whatever illusion Edward was weaving. She finally settled on contrition. "…Forgive me for not being here sooner."

"No, no!" Barbariccia shook her head, acid-green tears running down her cheeks that made Harley cringe about getting much closer – not that she had much of a choice, being that her legs were still petrified solid and Barbariccia was clinging to her for dear life. "I am overjoyed…to see you again… I am sorry for not recognizing you…this body, it's…a meaningless shell…"

"…What?" Harley frowned. "I don't understand."

"Though my corporeal form was returned to the planet long ago…this Barbariccia will never forget your kindness to me, Master…the soul you saved will live on forever in the breath of the planet itself."

"The soul…I saved…" Harley mumbled, and Barbariccia nodded.

"The raw pain of it all can still be felt in my heart, even as it ceased to beat long ago. The villagers called me a witch, called me an abomination – all because I could hear the secrets of the wind, because I could feel the planet's spirit within my own, because I loved one who was forbidden to me. My beautiful love was struck down before my eyes, and I was run out of our village, banished to a hell of my own making, knowing that I had been the one to cause her to die and knowing that I would never hear her voice carry my name on the winds ever again. And then you found me…drifting arduously between the realms of the living and the dead – all you did was extend your hand, and within I found all that I thought I had lost forevermore…you gave me purpose…and saved me from dying alone. For those two small things, I will be eternally in your debt."

"I…" Harley whimpered, lowering her head. She knew Barbariccia wasn't _really_ talking to her – and that if the fiend recognized Harley for what she really was, she would be flat on her back in a pool of her own blood with the snap of a finger. But if the circumstances had been just slightly different…would she had ever ended up like this fiend, as well? All it might have taken was one twist of fate…for just one event in her life to tilt her heart to darkness. It had happened to Barbariccia…Kain…and Golbez too, she was sure – there was no way a man suffering through contrition as fierce as what she had witnessed in her short time with him was someone that was simply born evil.

If the hand extended toward her own when she had been inwardly fading away had been anyone else's…

"No one deserves the piercing sting of loneliness, no matter who they may love," Harley finally said, reaching up to hold her hand over Barbariccia's, which was still entangled in her hair. "I am glad…that in the end, you weren't alone. And you shan't be alone now, either. Return to your eternal slumber, Barbariccia…I will stay with you until the end."

"Thank you, Master…" Barbariccia smiled through her tears. "I hope that someday, you will get to be with the one you love most, too…" She leaned in, pressing her lips to Harley's and closing her eyes. Harley nearly fell back in shock, her face erupting in a blush as a warm, tingly sensation returned to her torso and legs, indicating that she was slowly being healed from her petrification. Edward was so stunned that he stopped playing, every drop of blood in his body rushing to his head as his jaw dropped to the floor.

Harley felt the pressure on her mouth lighten as Barbariccia faded away in a pool of glittering ebony light, leaving behind only a long lock of silken hair beautifully braided with a hilt that looked much like that of a whip. Harley hesitated as she picked it up, giving it a crack and nearly jumping out of her own boots as the echo erupted within the hall and produced a glowing portal in the place of the shattered crystal.

"Whoa!" Edward could only manage to gasp, pocketing his harp and racing to Harley's side. He knelt down, grasping her hand in his own and breathlessly tugging her to her feet. Embarrassingly enough, he found his gaze immediately drawn to her reddened, slightly swollen lips, and suddenly and quite inappropriately felt himself wishing he could ask Barbariccia what Harley had tasted like. It took several long beats of Harley staring up at him questioningly before he sputtered out a lame comment.

"So, the song must have worked…she really thought you were Golbez."

"It's a shame," Harley frowned as she turned the golden whip over in her fingers. "If Golbez had been the one to actually hear all of that…"

"…You can tell him in-person," Edward offered, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear before he could stop himself. With her glasses no longer in the way, his fingertip could ever so slightly trace the curve of her auricle as he pulled his hand away. "He must be close if her soul reacted so powerfully to the spell. I had feared all this time that the others may eventually chase after us – but perhaps this means our luck is changing. If Golbez, Kain, Rosa and Ceodore have joined forces…then we'll surely be out of this labyrinth in no time."

"Right," Harley nodded, looking toward the portal that had opened before them. "Speaking of which...I had a thought…"

"…Hello? Can anyone hear us?"

An anxious female voice burst out of Edward's vest, and Harley covered her hand with her mouth, giggling at the absurd timing of the interruption. Edward blinked, pulling out the whisperweed and staring at it as if he had totally forgotten about the three people on the other end of the line. Harley had to admit that for a moment, she had forgotten about them too – Barbariccia's sad tale and parting kiss had deposited Harley into her own little chaotic universe.

"Leonora, is that you?"

"Y-Yes, Your Highness. I'm afraid we've had a bit of an…incident."

"What?" Edward gasped, and Harley immediately stopped laughing, her face paling. "Are you OK?"

"Erm, y-yes," Leonora stuttered. "It's just that…a portal suddenly manifested in the room we were trapped in, and it was…erm…"

"Under Leonora's rear!" Palom roared in the background, and Edward and Harley could hear Leonora whimper in embarrassment.

"Honestly," a new voice came through – Porom's. "Ugh…anyway, Leonora fell through the portal, so of course my brother and I went after her. But now, we're no longer in a tower – unfortunately, we've been transported to a place we're a little too familiar with – it looks to be Mount Ordeals."

"My word," Harley frowned. "I've heard all about Mount Ordeals. It's crawling with the undead, right?"

"Yes," Porom's voice broke up a little as she replied – suddenly, she sounded as if she were a million miles away. "Where…ar…ou…?"

"The Tower of Zot, apparently," Edward said. "A new portal has opened up here too. We'll enter it, and hopefully meet you on the mountain."

"We'll keep our eyes peeled," Porom began, but the connection finally fizzled out and went dead. Edward lowered the whisperweed, peering at Harley over the blooms.

"You were saying something before they patched in?"

"Oh, yes," Harley blinked. She had quite nearly forgotten. "These portals…it felt quite odd traveling through the first one, did it not? We weren't in it very long, but then we were deposited somewhere that would normally be impossible to reach in such a timespan. I don't know the origins of the Tower of Zot, but like Leonora guessed before – I agree that this is all just a series of illusions."

"It is all bizarre, how we've seemingly been separated from the others on purpose" Edward frowned. "It's most likely that Rydia and Edge were taken somewhere else, too. But if we aren't getting transported to real places, what's happening?"

"The crystals have been gathered," Harley sighed. "Which means the interdimensional elevator has been activated, right? I think these portals are a facet of that – stops on the route between the Blue Planet and wherever the core of this moon lies. But it's not taking us anywhere on the Blue Planet – it's taking us to _dimensions_ falsely disguised as locales from our planet. I think if we keep going, we're going to end up meeting the one who wanted the crystals in the first place."

"We're dimension-hopping?" Edward crossed his arms in thought. "And this portal only appeared after the crystal shattered. Which means…"

"…Two other crystals must have shattered before when our group split up," Harley finished. "So, the others must be here, somewhere – the crystals only seem to react when we, the enemy of this moon, is nearby."

"And they could be in terrible danger, if those crystals are giving birth to creatures like Barbariccia," Edward shook his head. "We must hurry – time is running out for Cecil!" He grabbed Harley's hand, and she felt her pulse strangely quicken as she stepped toward him. "Ready for the next one?"

She gazed into the light of the portal, mentally preparing herself for the next rush her body was about to undertake. She supposed that receiving a kiss from a female archfiend had sufficiently removed any of her irrational fears about anything that could possibly be thrown at her next – and she had been so embarrassed for it to happen in front of Edward that she supposed that boundary of chasteness between them had been pulverized as well. Indeed, if they made it back to Damcyan in one piece, many new turns would need to be navigated in their relationship – whatever form it ended up taking. It made her stomach twist in a longing, torturous way just thinking about it. She found herself squeezing his hand, the vision of the king before her as clear as ever, despite her lack of glasses. She would no longer let herself look away from what was most obviously and maddeningly before her, no matter how much she might long to go back to simpler days.

 _The past has settled and lays bare before me future – every action I have taken in this life has led me to this irrevocable moment in time. Has led me to_ _ **him**_ _._

She tilted her head, surprisingly enjoying the way the strands of her loose hair tickled her cheek and brushed across the back of her neck.

"…Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

Leonora collapsed on the ledge of a cliff, pressing her hand to her forehead as she tilted her chin and allowed herself the luxury of a deep, belabored breath. They had just cut through a small army of undead, and even though Palom's flames, along with her and Porom's white magic had made the task of destroying them all achievable, she was still shaken and left exhausted. Palom had been taking advantage of using every battle as a training opportunity, and he shamelessly pushed Leonora into front and center of every battle. The mixed effort of having to listen to Palom's "coaching", if she were being generous with her descriptors, and fighting for her life, positively drained her. She was eternally thankful that Porom had been keeping a close and obvious eye on her, and finally ordered Leonora to go ahead and find them a safe place to rest while she and her brother took care of any stragglers.

 _There's still so much I have to learn about magic…did the Epopts make a mistake, accepting me as one of their own? I'm beginning to feel as if I'm a fraud…what in the world am I doing here, in a place like this, burdening my teacher? He's not going to be around when I formally take on my duties…what I am I supposed to do then?_

She heard the crunch of footsteps and twisted her torso to see Porom approaching. Palom, it seemed, was absent – although she couldn't hear his maddening (but at the same time, kind of endearing) cackle he liked to emit when toasting zombies – he must had found another battle to dive into farther away.

"Lady Porom..." Leonora scrambled to her feet, realizing it was probably not very respectful for her to loaf about in Porom's presence.

"Porom is fine," Porom smiled, gesturing with her hand for Leonora to sit back down. Leonora stared at her hand and felt herself start to go into another dithering fit – she wasn't sure if it would be more disrespectful to ignore Porom's offer to sit back down or to sit and force the mage to talk down at her like a petulant child.

"Oh, no, no!" Leonora squeaked. "I couldn't speak to you in such a tone! You are the great white mage of Mysidia, my lady!"

Porom chuckled. Suddenly, she could see what it was Palom liked so much about this girl. She had breached the boundary of thinking Leonora was purposely naïve to realize that her earnestness and desire to see others happy were truly authentic – a rare trait nowadays among such powerful wizardry. There was no doubt in Porom's mind anymore that Leonora simply wore her heart on her billowing, oversized silk sleeve. "No, please, call me Porom. The same way you refer to Palom. It's fine, really."

"Are...are you sure...Porom?" Leonora blinked, and Porom grinned.

"Hee hee... Well, if you insist, I'm not going to stop you."

"Y-yes, my lady..." Leonora squeaked again, and clapped her hand over her mouth, sighing. "I will work on that!"

"What were you thinking about?" Porom asked, trying to be merciful and changing the subject. Leonora stared down at the rocky shelf of the cliff, pressing her lips together.

"W-well, are you sure this is all right? Taking an Epopt trainee like myself on a journey like this..."

Porom blinked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Is it all right? Palom _recommended_ you."

"What?" Leonora met Porom's gaze, her eyes wide.

"He gave me a very convincing account of your natural talents," Porom smiled. "He talked about how, as your teacher, he feels responsible for your development."

"R-really?"

"Mm-hmm."

Leonora shook her head wondrously. Palom had really said such kind words about her? "I... I really can't believe it..."

Porom tilted her head, biting down on her lip. "Are you regretting the journey?"

"Oh, no!" Leonora jumped a little, shaking her head anxiously. "Not at all! I mean, I was worried about being a burden to you all, but I'm truly happy to be here! I'm... I'm so happy, in fact, that I've forgotten about how scared I should be right now." And that was the truth – never in the entirety of her time with Palom had she felt scared of what was to come – she had been too focused on trying to keep up with the twins and in awe of the incredible power she had the privilege to witness.

"That's really good to hear," Porom nodded, and Leonora blinked.

"…Oh?"

"I think I'm starting to understand why Palom hasn't brought up his dream of becoming a sage lately," Porom muttered, and Leonora pressed her lips together. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to know about Palom's dream – it seemed to be common enough knowledge that Rydia and Porom spoke about it freely, but in their time together, Palom had never once mentioned it to Leonora directly – and she couldn't help but feel as if there was a reason for that. She decided to play dumb for now.

"What?"

"And just what're you two talking about?"

A curious crackling sound rang out in the air behind them – similar to the pop of fire in a blaze. Terrified to turn around, Leonora watched Porom's eyes darken as the reflection of a new figure formed within, the girl's mouth twisted in confusion. Bracing herself, Leonora mentally counted to three and whirled around, shocked to see what looked like a familiar face half-floating over the ledge of the cliff. The gray-blue sky that had previously been surrounding them was blinking erratically from blue to black in a small patch a few feet above the cliff side, similar to the failing monitors on the Lunar Whale when their ship had been pulled into the enemy's tractor beam. Leonora couldn't see the entirety of the person who had appeared before them, but her scowl was recognizable enough – as was the shock of bright red hair.

"Oh, it's..." Leonora breathed, and Porom stepped forward, flabbergasted.

"Luca?"

"In the flesh," Luca nodded, and the girls could see her shift a bit – maybe she was crossing her arms. "Look, I'm just gonna ask. Do you like Palom, or what?"

The blood drained from Leonora's face, and the back of her neck suddenly felt damp from a deluge of sweat. It was obvious who Luca was addressing the question to – certainly not Palom's twin sister. "Wh-what!? That's... that's a rather sudden question! Especially, erm, given the circumstances of your appearance here…"

"Luca!" Porom gasped, shaking her head. "Y-You're here! And safe, I presume? Where are the others?"

"Everyone I left with is still here and accounted for," Luca nodded behind her, as if any of them could actually see. "But we'll get to that in a minute. What were you saying, Leonora?"

"I...er…"

"You don't have to answer her," Porom sighed, but Leonora shook her head, clenching her fists.

"No…I have nothing to hide! I simply meant that I admire and, um, respect… I mean, as a teacher… That is, um…"

Luca shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingertips. "I'm not asking for all the gory details. You _like_ him, don't you? It's a simple question."

And just like that, Leonora shrugged and offered up a serene smile. Luca was right – it was a simple question, and she had an equitably simple answer. "Ah... Well, yes. Yes, I do."

If Porom had a drink in her hands, it would be sprayed all over the mountain. Her eyeballs darted between Leonora, who was gazing up at Luca patiently, and Luca, who looked as if a fuse had been lit beneath her bottom. After a few moments, Luca lowered her hand, and gave Leonora a smile in return.

"Huh?" Leonora and Porom burst out in unison, and Luca let out a deep breath, shaking her head.

"That makes me feel a lot better!"

"What…what do you mean?" Leonora blinked. And once more, she found herself utterly confused.

* * *

Across from footbridge that Leonora and Porom had crossed to reach the temporary campsite, Palom was shrinking behind a boulder, barely able to control the shaking in his limbs as he strained forward as much as humanly possible to try to hear the girls' conversation. At first, he had planned on just marching over to Porom and Leonora to collect them and move on to the summit of the mountain, but when he had heard his name fall from Porom's lips, he decided a little espionage might be in order, first. And then suddenly, the sky behind the girls had torn apart – or short-circuited, was perhaps a better way of describing it – and a looming, menacing image of Luca had appeared. That was when he had high-tailed it for safety – if she spotted him, she would announce his presence to the entire mountain with that big mouth of hers. At first, while Luca was talking to Leonora, she looked as if she were going to reach through space and throttle the Epopt's throat – but then in the blink of an eye, the two of them were suddenly smiling and carrying on like nothing had happened. Try as he might, Palom couldn't figure out just what the hell had happened.

 _Women can be fearsome things, sometimes..._ he thought, shaking his head.

* * *

"Luca!" Rydia finally managed to shove her way through the study room door Luca had hastily barricaded, blowing it apart with a Fira spell. An explosion of smoking wood rained from the ceiling as Rydia stomped up to the flickering bookcase Luca was facing, peering down at what appeared to be a seizing portrait of Porom and Leonora on a mountainside cliff.

"What in the world is going on?" Rydia cried. "Luca, why did you lock me out?"

"Sorry, sorry!" Luca flushed and waved her hand as if dismissing Rydia's grievances. "I was just exploring this room and the bookcase suddenly went crazy – flashing and flickering like a strobe. I was afraid a monster was trying to come out, so I locked myself in to keep you guys safe. But turns out…it was just these two."

 _Oh brother,_ Rydia thought, her eyes narrowed. _I'm sure it took Luca only mere moments to realize what was happening, and I've been banging on that door for the past three minutes. She definitely locked me out on purpose!_ But she decided now was not the time for semantics – she tried to remind herself of Luca's kindness to her on the rooftop so that she didn't wind up introducing the princess to the other end of her whip.

"Hi, Lady Rydia!" Leonora called, raising her hand. Rydia raised hers in return. She couldn't help but notice the sharp scent of metal in the air that overpowered the rows of ancient, dusty tomes before them – just like the cavern she had woken up in.

"You two look so close, but sound so far away," Rydia frowned, pressing her hands against the flickering books. Instead of falling through air, like she had been expecting, her fingers hit something smooth and cold – like glass. The glowing red beacon of light they had been chasing had at long last given way to a familiar building at the end of the scattered Feymarch cityscape – the library Rydia had lived in with Leviathan and Asura a lifetime ago. The group had decided to split up and explore all of the rooms before descending into the basement – Rydia was already terrified of what might be awaiting them there, and wanted to put it off as long as possible.

"And you look like you're a floating head," Porom sighed. "What in the world is happening?"

 _Perhaps the same thing that happened to Ursula and Ceodore,_ Rydia thought, and rushed to explain to the girls everything that had happened to them so far in the false Feymarch. In turn, Porom shared their tale, explaining that Palom was off somewhere on the mountain trying to clear away zombies so that they could find a way out and be reunited with Edward and Harley, neither of whom had shown up after they had last spoken. The whisperweed had remained dead, and Porom wondered aloud if the two of them ended up being transported somewhere very far away, instead of following them to Mount Ordeals.

When the four women had finished exchanging stories, Luca piped up.

"You know, something about the way this bookshelf looks reminds me an awful lot of the circuitry inside Calca and Brina when I have to fix them."

"And it smells like metal in here," Rydia frowned. "Which is totally out of place in an ancient library. I don't remember ever smelling anything like this when I lived here – this is an odd detail for whoever created this place to get wrong when everything else is nearly so perfect."

"Maybe this is an accident," Leonora offered. "On our end, it looks like a chunk of the sky has been cut away. Whoever is trying to show us these things must be struggling with keeping up the illusion – maybe there are more of us wandering around then they bargained for."

"That makes sense," Luca nodded. An idea was starting to bubble up in her brain – one that was absolutely terrifying, but seemed plausible given everything Leonora and Porom had just shared with them, plus the experience of meeting Ceodore that Ursula had relayed. "I wonder…"

But her trail of thought was interrupted when Palom came bounding up to Porom and Leonora, loudly announcing his arrival before actually appearing in a place that Rydia and Luca could see him.

"We need to make tracks before any more of those monsters trace us," Palom said, giving a nonchalant wave to the two figures floating above him like it was nothing. "We're close to the summit – if they wanted to trap us, that would be the ideal place to do so."

"You were always good being able to think like the enemy," Porom said dryly. "Good thing you're on our side, I guess."

"What are you going to do?" Leonora asked, and Rydia and Luca glanced at each other.

"I suppose we'll continue searching the library for an exit," Rydia said, and Luca nodded.

"Have faith, you guys! If something like this happened, it means we're more interconnected than we previously thought. The enemy wants us to think we're far apart – but this is proof that we're not totally isolated from each other. A few more slip-ups, and that might give us enough to crack the code and figure out how to find each other again."

"You're right!" Porom smiled. "Take care of yourselves – I'm sure we'll see you all very soon."

"You too," Rydia said, and she and Luca watched as the three mages turned and made their way north. Luca flinched as Rydia spun to face her, but the rage from being locked out before had already left Rydia's body. She merely threw her arms around Luca, realizing how hard it had probably been at that moment for the girl to watch the love of her life walk away with someone else. Luca hugged Rydia back tightly, forcing out a little laugh that Rydia could tell had the slightest tinge of regret.

When they reunited with the others in the main alcove of the library, Rydia warily eyed the narrow stairs that would take them to Leviathan and Asura's throne room.

"The last place to check here is… _was_ , I mean, my home, for many wonderful years. Very few humans have ever graced the royal family's chamber. Just Cecil, Kain, Rosa, and…" Her throat clenched when it came to Edge's name – she was more worried about him now than ever. They had somehow managed to stumble upon Ceodore and the others…wasn't Edge trying to find _her_?

"Do you want to go unescorted?" Yang asked gently. "Do you feel it will anger Their Majesties if you bring us along?"

"No…" Rydia lied. Yang had nailed it, but she had to force herself to remember this wasn't the real Feymarch, and therefore, she was breaking no one's rules. There wasn't even a guarantee that Asura and Leviathan were still alive to be furious at her for an imaginary transgression.

 _I can't give in to despair…I have to remember…my last memory of them alive wasn't of them banishing me…it was of them saving my life! It was of Asura showing me how to save the others before I even knew what was happening…_

When Rydia reached up to brush the hyacinth the Mist Dragon had bestowed upon her, she felt a chill run down her spine as the last few petals fluttered to the floor, defeated by the overwhelming heat. Silently, she turned to go down the stairs, giving a slight nod when Yang and the others made the motion to follow her.

As she crossed the threshold to the throne room, all of the churning tension that had clenched at her stomach with each step she took down the stairs rushed out of her like the air being released from a balloon. Lying about in a proverbial pool of her own radiance and opulence, as regal as ever, was Queen Asura, her eyes closed as if she were in the middle of a wonderful catnap. As soon as Rydia's boot hit the crystal-lined tiles of the chamber, Asura's ever-vigilant violet eyes snapped open, and she lifted herself from her throne of pillows, fixating her gaze directly on Rydia as a string of diamonds gently slid down her collar and nestled between the swell of her breasts, one teardrop-shaped orb exposed outside the sling of her canary yellow gown, just like always. Absent was the cold, hard, flint-like stare of the other eidolons Rydia had desperately fought to free – even Asura's complexion was awash with her usual pearl-pink color.

"Your Majesty!" Rydia exclaimed, rushing up to the queen and throwing her arms around her and practically diving into the pillows in the process. "Oh, thank heavens you're safe…"

 _I can feel it…Asura's heart beating against my own…she's alive…the only real thing in this farce of a village!_

Asura said nothing as she stared down at Rydia, a twitch in her eye going unnoticed as she noted the absence of the ruby hyacinth in the girl's hair. Silently, Yang, Ursula, Cid, and Luca hung back at the stairwell, not quite sure if making their presence known would help or hinder the reunion. After a few moments, Rydia peered up at Asura, smiling a little as her gaze caught the queen's.

Rydia felt a pinch in her side, followed a rush of something warm and wet. Time dragged to a standstill as she forced her gaze away from Asura and looked down at her lap, where the queen's bejeweled fist had swiftly and silently nestled a switchblade into the curve of her stomach, sending a cascade of blood spilling into her folded legs. Her lower lip quivering, all Rydia could think to do was dip her fingers into the blood to ensure that it wasn't another twisted illusion. Asura yanked the blade free, letting it drop to the floor with a clatter as Rydia stared up at her, white-faced and paralyzed.

"...Your Majesty?"

* * *

"This has got to be a joke, right?"

Edge let out a growl and kicked at the severed head of a clockwork soldier, sending it careening over the bridge that he had only just previously run across to reach the crystal chamber of the Tower of Babil. Now, he was back here once more, the only difference from last time being that the Eblan Four were actually following him this time, rather than poorly stalking him.

"Why would that portal just take us back to this floor?" Izayoi shook her head. "I thought for sure it was the way out of here."

"Did you do this to all of these monsters, Master?" Tsukinowa blinked, toeing another still mechanical body. He didn't really remember Edge being so effective with the monsters when they had been watching their master from the shadows, but maybe Edge had been so stealthy in one of his counter-attacks that Tsukinowa had blinked and missed something.

"Hardly," Edge admitted, only now just realizing that it was sort of odd that so many bodies were scattered about. He had taken out a few soldiers, of course, but the clamor he had heard once he had escaped to the crystal chamber indicated to him that plenty were still milling about before the crystals had shattered. He had figured that most of them would shove each other off the bridge in a rush to get to him, but the number of bodies and body parts scattered about the pristine tiles of the tower said otherwise…

"There are scorch marks on some of them," Zangetsu pointed out, lifting a severed arm that had been stained mostly black.

"And it smells like fire in here," Gekkou took a long, deep breath. "Like a flame I've smelled before…but I can't put my finger on it."

"Fires really smell different to you?" Edge blinked. "How is this something I don't know?"

"If I may be frank, Master, you're not exactly detail-oriented."

"…Fair enough," Edge shrugged, turning back to the sea of bodies before them. "If we go back into that crystal chamber, are we just going to have to fight more monsters? Because I'm not really in the mood."

The idea had only occurred to him when recalled what had happened when they had entered the portal after his parents had departed. At first, he had been embraced by a chilly, yet comforting light, millions of pinpricks of light rushing by as he rocketed into the stars. Just as a blossom of pale blue light reached the peripheral of Edge's vision, there came a flash of red, and a seething heat that nearly knocked him out as it burned the fringes of his lungs. When he next opened his eyes, he found himself back in the Tower of Babil once more, with four confused ninjas at his side.

 _Scorch marks…flames…But of course. He's finally shown himself. I guess what happened before with Ifrit was just a preview of what was to come._

"There will be another crystal inside that chamber," Edge pointed toward the sealed doors. "I think I understand now. As always, history repeats itself."

"What do you mean?" Gekkou asked. "What's supposed to happen next?"

"After I fought mutations of my parents in the Tower of Babil seventeen years ago, I confronted the fiend whose associate desecrated their corpses and who was responsible for lighting Eblan aflame. Together, Cecil and I defeated him…but he's been leaving me little love notes as of late, and I think he wants me back." He thought of the blistering panic attacks that had knocked him out in the Cave of Eblan, the warning from his parents before they had confronted the mysterious girl in the tower, and the incident in Eblan…

A small part of Edge had thought he was just becoming crazy and obsessive over the tower being alit once more, but suddenly, everything made sense – it would have been extremely satisfying for him if he didn't realize what that meant was waiting for him inside the crystal chamber. The Seneschal's menacing warning rang in his ears:

 _"But Cecil and the others aren't with you now."_

"The fiend of fire that destroyed Eblan is inside?" Izayoi cracked her knuckles. "Perfect. I'm ready, Master!"

"No!" Edge cried, backing over the bridge so he could face them as he spoke. "I want to handle this one by myself."

"You're going to take on an archfiend by yourself?" Gekkou raised an eyebrow. "If we're talking about repeating the past, doesn't that bode ill for you?"

Edge shook his head. "Call me reckless. I don't care. But this is my battle to fight. And that is an order."

"But Master, we just said we would do this together!" Tsukinowa protested. "We promised your parents…if something happens to you, we…!"

"I'm not so foolish as to let anything happen to me," Edge growled. "You have my word – if that means anything, anymore – that I will shatter that crystal and make it out alive. Please, understand that this is something I have to do – if I'm not to be chained to the past anymore, I must sever those bonds with my own hands."

"But…!" Zangetsu gasped, and to Edge's surprise, Gekkou shook his head, raising his hand for silence.

"You've heard our Master's orders. Anyone who attempts to disobey will have to face me."

 _Thank you, Gekkou…!_ Edge gave a slight smile, turning on his heel and sprinting the rest of the way down the bridge. This time, the mechanical doors slid open for him effortlessly, like he was an expected guest, and slammed shut just as quickly behind him.

Sure enough, as he had anticipated, the center dais was alit with a pillar of light. Forming within its core was another of the dread ebony crystals. Edge could feel the temperature of the room skyrocket, and yanked away his cowl to combat the sweat that was already starting to pool at his collar.

 _Forgive me, my faithful guard – please don't think I would turn my back on our promises so easily. I understand now what it was Rubicante wanted me to find – and now it's time to show him once and for all. My true flame – the reason why I fight – it's for all of you – my brothers in arms, my friends, and the one I love. No longer am I clouded by delusions that only I can complete what must be done on this moon – but I am the only one who can forgive myself…and the only one who can free myself from the prison of my own making._

"Rubicante!" Edge's thunderous growl roared over the escalating heat and the columns of flames that had begun to lick the chamber walls. "I'm ready for you, now…don't disappoint me!"

* * *

Palom crossed the final bridge that linked Mount Ordeal's summit to the shrine that had once been erected long ago for the Father of Magic – whose son, the holy paladin, had once crossed the space-time bounds of the shrine to obtain the power of the light that would go on to save their world from Zemus's darkness. At the time, Palom had not thought much of the phenomenon he had witnessed – it was a miracle, to be sure, but he had only been sent along with Porom to spy on Cecil, and didn't think much would come of his journey one way or the other.

But seeing the shrine again, after so long – even if he knew in his heart that it was a fake, he still felt an indescribable rush of awe flood his veins. If Cecil hadn't stumbled into Mysidia that fateful day, half-drowned and on the brink of losing everything he held dear, Palom knew he wouldn't be standing where he was right now – and that certain people wouldn't be by his side, either – people he hadn't realized he needed until it was already too late to turn back.

"It looks exactly as it did when I went to Mount Ordeals a few days ago to find Kain," Porom said softly, breaking Palom out of his self-induced trance. "How could someone know to replicate it down to the cracks in the marble?"

"This is where the man who brought our world magic was laid to rest?" Leonora whispered. "Who could have possibly done that?"

"His body was never brought here," Porom explained. "Kluya was buried in a now-derelict cemetery, along with his family, on the northern outskirts of Baron, where a tiny village once stood before being annexed by the kingdom. But somehow, his soul was drawn to this holy place…and so he stood sorrowfully in wait, until the holy paladin could at last ascend to his true potential."

"…King Cecil, right?" Leonora asked, and Palom nodded.

"Your dear friend that you spoke of in Troia…and now he's…" She pictured the gaunt, lifeless king in the Lunar Whale, and blanched.

"…That's right," Palom muttered, quickly turning away. Porom saw the glimmer of a tear in the corner of his eye, staring down at her feet to spare him the indignity of him knowing she had seen him cry.

Leonora lowered her head, pressing her fingers to her lips as she shuddered and closed her eyes. Porom looked up at her quizzically, biting her lip.

"What's wrong?"

"…Why do I feel like something terrible is about to happen to us?" Leonora whispered under her breath.

"Oh hell…what is that!?"

Something within the shrine had flashed in Palom's eyes, causing him to stumble backward and grind his knuckles into his face as he cursed aloud. Porom gasped, quickly tugging Leonora aside as a slender, ebony crystal materialized before them in a flash of light, purple spheres dancing in the mages' blinded eyes. Almost immediately after their vision had begun to recover, the crystal began to splinter with several ominous cracking noises, long fractures running up the face and spidering out into a network of rapidly-spreading grooves.

"I…I don't recognize that crystal!" Porom cried. "Why is it breaking?"

"Get out of the way!" Palom gasped. "It's going to explode!"

The three of them fell to their knees and covered their heads just as the crystal shattered into hundreds of dusty shards, a few lacerations slicing open across their exposed arms and backs a small price to pay for avoiding complete oblivion. As shimmering crystal dust fell upon them from the heavens, Porom dared to drink in the putrid, black shadow that had poured out of the crystals' remains like pus in a festering wound. Despite the clear, clean mountain air, Porom suddenly felt overwhelmed by the smell of something rotting and dying, a brackish, blood-like taste flooding her mouth as she gagged on desperately-needed oxygen.

"It's…him…!" Palom groaned into his jacket, hiking the collar up around his mouth to try to spare himself some of the debilitating stink.

"You're not serious!" Porom whimpered, knowing exactly to whom her brother was referring – such a foulness could never be replicated, nor ever forgotten by those who once experienced it. Her eyes stung as she took in the rapidly-extending ivory horns that were curling from the beast's head and weaving under his armpits to form a misshapen chest plate. Patches of brown fur intermixed with crusty, black, scorched flesh took form over a riot of throbbing, vein-ridden muscles. His head was half-rotted, an exposed grinning skeleton making up the right side while rotting flesh and a single glowing orange orb for an eye made up the left. Four gnarled, yellowed claws tore at the rocky mountain floor, sending a cloud of dust into the air that intermingled with the destroyed crystal's remains.

"Scarmiglione, the archfiend of earth!" Palom hissed. "Back from the dead, are you? Although that might be a bit redundant…now that I think about it."

Leonora let out a strangled wail, tears sliding down her cheek as she huddled into a tighter ball.

"This presence! It's tied so deeply to Crystal of Earth…and just like the crystal…he's _terrified_!"

* * *

Ceodore didn't know how long he had been standing at the edge of the crystal plate, staring out at the hundreds of sparkling stars that seemed to dance in orbit around the glowing core beneath his feet.

The portal in the Baronian throne room and deposited them here – another place that Rosa, Kain and Golbez all instantly recognized, leaving Ceodore in the dark. Golbez explained that they were now in the Lunar Core, the inner-most depths of the Red Moon that acted as the gateway to the place the Lunarians slept. Ceodore was overcome with a million questions – suddenly, he was only a stone's throw away from the people from which a quarter of his blood had been made manifest – but it seemed that none of the adults were in the mood to answer any of his queries. Golbez had gone off on his own, advising that Rosa, Kain and Ceodore get some rest and watch Cecil while he checked things out. Having learned their lesson from the last time Golbez told them to stay put, this time everyone obeyed – Kain and Rosa found the very same portion of the crystal plate they had camped in right before their final battle with Zemus, and mostly kept to themselves with Cecil laid out between them.

Before Golbez had left, he simply pointed toward the glittering stars, glaring down at Ceodore as he spoke and taking the boy by surprise.

"That's them…every star in the sky is another Lunarian, dreaming of the day they can call the Blue Planet their home."

But before Ceodore could bring himself to look at Golbez and ask any more, his uncle had disappeared.

At first, Ceodore tried sleeping, but when he finally managed to close his eyes, he was filled with the sudden dread of possibly hearing again that creepy, sad voice that had spoken to him in his dream on the Lunar Whale. His eyes snapped open, and he rolled to his side so that his back was to his mother and Kain, chewing on his lip.

 _Father…were you ever afraid to sleep because of your premonitions? When you were here seventeen years ago with your friends and with Mother…what went through your mind? What did it feel like to have the realization that a few hours from that very moment, it was possible you could no longer exist?_

"Ceodore," Rosa said gently, and he twitched, rolling back over so that he could face them once more. She was absentmindedly stroking Cecil's hair as she spoke, the circles under her eyes even more pronounced and shadow-ridden now. "It's been quite a while – maybe you should find Golbez."

"Me?" Ceodore squeaked, immediately sitting upright. "…Why? You know this place better than I."

"You should take what he told you to heart," Rosa pressed, smiling slightly. "Your ancestors are all around you at this very moment – it's more than your father and I could have ever hoped to show you. Maybe if you offer them your prayers, you'll hear something in return. As a Lunarian, you should be able to speak with them, even as they are dreaming."

"What?" Ceodore blinked. "Has Father ever done anything like that?"

Rosa lowered her gaze. "He was trying the morning you were due to come home. Trying to reach…" She trailed off, gingerly lacing a lock of Cecil's hair around her ring finger.

"…Oh," Ceodore frowned. So, even now, she hesitated to let that man's name fall from her lips when in reference to his relation with Cecil. What exactly did she expect of him, an estranged nephew, then?

But when he looked up at Kain for potential back-up, he merely shook his head, gesturing with his thumb behind his shoulder. "Go on, soldier. I'm sure one of the first things you learned in the Red Wings was to acclimate yourself to your surroundings."

"Yes, sir," Ceodore replied meekly, hauling himself up and patting his scabbard to ensure his sword still remained before wandering off. And that had been how he had ended up in a trance at the ledge of the plate he had been sent to explore, trying to figure out how to do something as obscure as becoming a telepath with absolutely no clue as to what to do. It had been easy for him to sense his father, once upon a time – and even easier to realize when that precious thread between them had been severed – it had been as if someone had reached into his chest and pulled out a chunk of his heart. But to actually speak with another Lunarian, or convey to them any kind of thought? _Impossible._

The blue rune that had been glowing a few feet away from Ceodore that he had convinced himself was a bad idea to enter alone suddenly burst to life, and Golbez appeared in a haze of dancing starlight. He immediately turned to Ceodore, raising an eyebrow.

"You need something?"

"N-no..." Ceodore gulped, and Golbez took one last long look at him before pivoting on his heel and making his approach. Ceodore could feel the panic rising in his throat as his uncle's violet eyes came into view, pulsing with an entirely different power than he had ever sensed or seen in his father despite the fact that they were…

 _…brothers._

The word was difficult for him to manifest in his mind, let alone say aloud.

"So, your birth name is Ceodore, yes?" Golbez asked, and Ceodore couldn't help but stare up at him dumbly.

"Uh...yes."

Golbez crossed his arms over his chest, and Ceodore flinched – had that not been an acceptable reply? "I only ask because it's a rather unusual name. I had no idea he had a son at all, much less one your age. The fact that you exist is nothing short of a miracle, in my eyes."

"I, er..." Ceodore blanched. Did Golbez feel that way because of how many times he had tried to kill Cecil and Rosa, along with destroying an entire planet, and yet they had managed to survive and procreate ( _gross_ ), or was he trying to say something else? "It is an unusual name. I was named after my grandmother, Cecilia…and…well, you. My father's older brother."

Golbez tilted his head. _Cecil…what could that possibly mean? What was going through your head when your one and only son was born?_

 _No…do not be a sentimental fool – do not forget the last dream you had before waking form stasis. It doesn't mean anything. He couldn't have possibly forgiven me…not for everything I had done, and the pain I continued to inflict in my absence. Edge was right…I too, helped drive Cecil to this madness in my own way._

"Well, I _was_ his older brother."

"What?"

Golbez turned his back to Ceodore, gazing up at the swirl of stars above and sending a cascade of dark silver hair tumbling down his back. "I brought the world to the brink of destruction. Since then, I've hidden myself away from the universe. I don't deserve to live among my mother's people anymore…certainly less so among my father's, but I was a coward and took the easiest way out at the time. Theodor died when he was ten years old…only hours after your father was born. So, the obvious conclusion is that Cecil never knew his older brother."

Ceodore mimicked Golbez by crossing his own arms and taking a step forward. _I'm done with riddles…I'm done with shrouded half-lies about the past…this is my legacy we're talking about too – my blood._ "If that's the case, what made you come back now, then?"

Ceodore watched with satisfaction as Golbez's shoulders slightly hunched. "…What?"

"Why did you return to us during this time of crisis?" Ceodore pressed. "Why show your face on a planet that despises you, to a family that has been dead to you for years?" When he refused to reply, Ceodore took another step forward, gently grasping Golbez's forearm. He could hear the man's prayer beads clicking as he made a motion to jerk away, but ultimately didn't carry it through, letting Ceodore's small, white fingers lay against his almond-colored flesh. "Did you... come to help us, then? To help my father? Your _brother_?"

 _Of course. Even if Fusoya hadn't forced the way, I know that in the end, I would have found him again, even if it took me the rest of my days…_

 _All my life, I've been seeking that eternal light…longing for its grace. Longing for its peace. I'm not ready to give up that dream…even if the end draws near, I'll dream of that light until the darkness finally absorbs what's left of me and returns me to the ruins of the planet my father loved so dearly._

Golbez finally turned around, and Ceodore was shocked to see the tiniest of smiles greeting him. "I guess I did."

Ceodore blushed as he finally dared himself to look Golbez fully in the eye. If the man had really descended to what had to have been his ultimate hellscape just to save his father, he realized he at least owed him the respect of facing him like a man. That's what a proper Red Wing would do, after all. "Um... Do you mind if I ask you one more thing?"

Golbez blinked. That hadn't exactly been the kind of response he had been expecting, but he reminded himself that he was still talking to a fifteen-year-old boy. "What is it?"

Ceodore nodded toward the twinkling stars dancing above them. "What is it like on the moon that you call home?"

Golbez couldn't help but smile more. "Are you curious?"

Ceodore nodded. "Well, of course. Part of my lineage is Lunarian, after all...my father has told me a lot, but he's never actually lived there, like you. When this is all over, maybe we could…you know…visit?"

 _My nephew…even as we speak, the Red Moon may be no more…despite everything you see around you here, I now know this is nothing but a fake production – a replica of what was once my home. You may truly be the last of our lineage…a burden I would never wish on anyone, but one the fates have seemingly laid upon you as the heir to the holy paladin…_

"When this is over, we can talk about it," Golbez offered, and Ceodore pressed his hands together, blushing deeper.

"T…Thank you…"

"Oh, you're back," Rosa smiled, and both Golbez and Ceodore spun around to face her and Kain, who was carrying Cecil. "Did you find anything?"

Golbez immediately snapped back into his default pragmatic self, the smile melting away from his face.

"Everything looks the same as when I last left the Lunar Core. I did not descend to the final chamber…" he trailed off, and Kain and Rosa seemed to know exactly what he was talking about.

"We'll go together," Kain said, and noticed Ceodore's pout at being left out. "The final chamber contains the doorway to the sleeping Lunarians."

"And it's where we fought Zemus," Rosa added, the lilt in her tone noticeably fading.

"…Well, there's nowhere else for us to go then, right?" Ceodore asked. "Let's just get it over with so we can find the next door and get out of here."

"That's the spirit!" Kain laughed, slapping Ceodore on the back. "Although that sounds more like something I would say, rather than Cecil."

"You're already becoming a terrible influence," Rosa sighed, shaking her head. "Golbez, would you mind leading the way?"

They stepped through the rune, which transported them to another level of the crystal plate that looked much the same as the previous – only the glowing core at the dimension's center seemed to evolve as they delved deeper and deeper, gradually becoming such a blinding light that they had to shield their eyes as they made their way through the final layer. When they reached the rune that would take them the site of the battle against Zemus, Ceodore blindly reached for his mother's hand, and was relieved to feel her entwine her fingers with his in response. Cecil had continued to sleep peacefully for the duration of their journey through the Lunar Core, the slightest of smiles set on his pale mouth.

The light of the rune engulfed them, and when Ceodore opened his eyes, he found himself at the base of a long, winding set of crystalline stairs, through which he could see the next level that awaited them above. He couldn't understand why his heart had started to pound so intensely the moment his feet had touched the floor. He looked back at his father one last time before beginning his ascent up the stairs behind Golbez. Kain had shifted Cecil over his shoulder, and as a result Ceodore could no longer see his father's face.

When they reached the top floor, Ceodore stopped in his tracks, his legs feeling as if they had been suddenly encased in stone. Golbez was only a few feet away, his jaw tightly clenched and his hand already reaching for his blade. Rosa and Kain came up behind Ceodore, their labored breathing immediately ceasing when their eyes fell upon the spectacle before them.

A resplendent, but deformed throne made entirely out of shattered crystals was stationed just feet away in the rear of the chamber, glimmering in hues of navy and violet with the muted starlight pouring out of the depths of the Lunar Core sleeping beneath them. Sitting in the throne, his legs crossed and his head nonchalantly tilted against his hand, was a dark knight clad in raven-esque armor the color of a starless night, a helmet twisted with fierce black steel horns hiding the knight's face and form-fitting latex armor embracing the rest of his body like a glove, revealing every inch of clenching, toned muscle and the hilt of a scarlet-hilted blade that hung from his hip.

 _No…_ Ceodore gasped to himself, his eyes widening in horror. _This…this is the man in black from my dream after the airship crash…it…it was never Golbez at all…!_

The knight didn't deign to move an inch – all Ceodore could see behind the visor of his helmet were two faintly glowing dots of red. Behind him, Cecil suddenly let out a terrible wail, flailing so violently against Kain that the dragoon stumbled backward and had to put Cecil down before they were both thrown over the ledge of the stairs. Cecil screamed as he fell from Kain's arms and collapsed to his knees, grasping his head and releasing another howl into the vastness of the empty space above them.

"Ngh...! Ah...AAAAAAHHH!"

"Cecil!" Rosa cried, kneeling to his side and trying to pull his hands away from his head. "Oh gods, what's happening to him!?"

"Who...who are you?" Ceodore gulped, and Golbez immediately slid in front of Ceodore as the knight started to rise, his boots ringing against the crystal tile as he reached to his hip for his sword.

"You!" Golbez gasped, and Kain rushed in front of Cecil and Rosa, calling upon his lance and immediately turning it upon the approaching intruder.

"No!" Kain cried. "It can't be…this is impossible!"

Rosa lifted her head from trying to tend to Cecil's fit, her eyes flitting to the knight as the blood drained from her face. At that moment, Cecil screamed bloody murder once more, the piercing soundwaves bouncing off the hallowed halls of the chamber and shattering the crystal throne into thousands of pieces.

"NGH...GAAAAAAH!"

Ceodore barely had time to register what happened when Golbez swept the boy under his cape, turning his back to shield Ceodore from the aftermath of the crystal explosion. Kain cast a Protect spell over himself, Rosa and Cecil, the crystal debris bouncing off the golden light harmlessly as it flew toward and over them. Ceodore could hear Golbez growling in his throat and peeked out from beneath the cloak only to see the knight nearly at their side, jagged crystals embedded in his armor and drips of blood staining the floor in his wake.

"Cecil!?" Rosa whimpered, and Ceodore turned to stare at his mother, only to realize she was addressing her question toward the dark knight.

"I knew it," Golbez muttered, finally withdrawing his sword. "Ceodore – on your guard!"

"Wait!" Ceodore shrieked as Golbez darted forward and slashed his blade into the dark knight's, sending the knight skidding back a few feet from the unexpected force of his blow. He turned to Kain and Rosa, who were observing the beginnings of the carnage with muted horror. "Mother, why did you call him "Cecil"!?"

"Because this is my true self…" the dark knight suddenly hissed in a too-familiar drawl, throwing Golbez off of him and laughing manically as he held his blade aloft, the sword starting to glow with a putrid black aura. He flipped open the visor on his helmet, and Ceodore felt his heart drop to his stomach. The face in the visor, with the exception of a pair of pulsating, blood-red eyes, was that of his father's, right down to the slope of his nose and the curl of silver hair that always hung over his face, no matter what he tried to do with it or how long he grew it out.

"No…No!" Ceodore cried, tears clouding his vision as he grasped blindly for his sword. "You're a liar!" But even so, he couldn't bring himself to actually withdraw his weapon – there was no way he could ever hold a blade to his father's throat again – not after what had happened back in the throne room at Baron when Cecil had collapsed after Ceodore released the spell that had banished Odin's nightmare.

"I have no use for these bodies... these _shells_. I... I am the true Cecil!"

The dark knight twisted his sword horizontally, an overpowering wave of darkness springing forth from the blade and shooting toward them in the shape of rapidly-multiplying shanks. Ceodore shrieked and lifted his buckler, even though he already knew such a weak instrument would do nothing against a spell as terrifying as this. Golbez was struggling to unwrap himself from the column the dark knight had effortlessly tossed him into, reaching his hand out toward the others with a silent cry as the darkness overtook them.

"Grh...waaagh!" Cecil grunted, and without warning, leapt to his feet and pushed past Ceodore and Kain, throwing himself in the way of the darkness just as it was poised to strike. His body shuddered and seized relentlessly as it was assaulted, his eyes rolling in the back of his head when the final blade struck his abdomen and sent him flying flat on his back.

"FATHER!" Ceodore screamed, and the dark knight shook his head, laughing as he sheathed his sword and extended his left hand, a globe of swirling black mist lacing itself between his fingers.

"Was that the final flame? Enough, you shell!"

The black mist shot forward like a harpoon, ensnaring Cecil's limbs and dragging his still body back toward the dark knight. With a twist of his fingers, the knight manipulated Cecil's body like a marionette, forcing the broken man to his knees and proceeding to push his palm upward so that Cecil's head would lift forward, forcing him to face the dark knight even with his eyes closed.

"This mockery ends now!" the dark knight hissed, withdrawing a knife from his belt and giving it a toss in the air before catching it and diving forward. There came a flash of light, the shattered crystals from the makeshift throne that had scattered all over the chamber suddenly exploding in a dazzling bout of radiance. Ceodore saw the flicker of a dancing shadow and realized far too late that Golbez had launched himself away from the pillar and had thrown himself directly between Cecil and the dark knight. There was a sickening squelch, and the despondent tingle of crunching glass. When the light from the crystals died into a quiet glow, Golbez was paused in front of a still-paralyzed Cecil, his head lowered and his entire body quaking. Plunged into his chest was the dark knight's knife, the slightest trickle of crimson seeping into Golbez's cloak and blooming into a crooked stain.

The dark knight chortled, shaking his head.

"You dare to believe this atones for anything? For terrorizing the entire world!?"

Golbez could taste the blood pooling in the corner of his mouth as he choked on his contrition. "I... I _am_ sorry..."

Cecil's eyes had snapped open, the paladin staring wordlessly as Golbez stumbled backward, twisting grotesquely so that he could catch just one more glance of Cecil's crystalline blue gaze as he fell to the ground, another round of crystal shards doomed to dust beneath the crush of his stiffening body.

 _Ah…there it is…at long last…that beautiful, holy light…_

 _I always knew I would find it in your eyes, brother..._

"Forgive me... Cecil..." Golbez's eyes slid shut, the chorus of screams from Kain, Rosa and Ceodore that had erupted around him fading into a most divine oblivion.


	35. Act Thirty-Five: The Lightbringer's Tale

Act Thirty-Five: The Lightbringer's Tale | The Devoted

What little color Cecil had left drained from his features as his eyes followed the path of Golbez's fall, a delicate nebula of moon dust and crystal slivers rising in the air as his elder brother's body crashed into the ground. A stream of unbidden tears ran down his cheeks, stinging the lacerations he had incurred from the knight's Darkness attack.

The dark knight stepped forward, crushing his boot into Golbez's bare stomach and twisting his palm so that Cecil, still under his control, was forced to turn his head and witness Golbez's final humiliation. The dark knight then bent down, digging his heel in fiercely as he hissed in Golbez's ear. " _Forgive you_ , you say? You _dare_ to believe this atones for throwing me aside!?"

The fallen sorcerer's body went slack under the crushing weight of the dark knight. Golbez's dark silver hair had spilled behind him like a trailing moonlit river, and the peaceful, near-smile he wore on his lips made it look as if he was merely sleeping – back in stasis, dreaming of the future promised to him millennia ago like any other normal Lunarian. The hilt of the knife glinted dangerously from the folds of his cloak, and a fresh, delicate trail of ruby-red blood had shed over the grooves of his abdominals, staining the crystal tile beneath with the steadiness of a ticking clock.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

Ceodore, Rosa and Kain were frozen in place behind Cecil, their throats raw from screaming and their clouded minds still in shock from what had just occurred. The dark knight, not paying them nor Cecil any mind, still wasn't finished dispensing his justice. Spitting disgustedly in the sorcerer's face, he yanked his foot away from Golbez's stomach and proceeded to mercilessly implant it between his ribs with a series of frenzied kicks.

"Isn't this what you wanted this entire time? To _die_ at the hands of the brother you abandoned!?"

"S-Stop it!" Rosa suddenly shrieked, throwing herself over Golbez's body just as another fierce kick knocked him over on his side. She wrapped her arms around Golbez's shoulders, clutching him to her chest and letting out a strangled sob. "He's GONE! Haven't you done ENOUGH!?"

The dark knight stumbled backward in shock to keep his foot from flying into her face. "Why...why do you choose him, Rosa!? This man threw me away like trash when I was a child! He steered the world to its own destruction!"

She shook her head, glaring at her husband's doppelgänger with such raw hatred that Ceodore was overtaken with tremors.

"You. Are. Not. _My._ Cecil!"

The dark knight's eyes widened, a flash of hurt briefly illuminating the swirling darkness. But it passed quickly, and he retaliated by lifting his other hand, bidding his knife to return to his side. Rosa flinched as the weapon tore itself cleanly away from Golbez and went sailing in a straight line back into the knight's waiting fingers.

"I've no need for traitors, either. If you love that bastard so much, you can go on and die alongside him!"

"Mother!" Ceodore screamed, and before Kain could reach out and stop him, launched himself at the dark knight's knees and tackled him to the ground, sending the knife spinning several feet away across the floor. Ceodore scrambled to pin the knight beneath his thighs, clumsily reaching for Excalibur and feeling his fingers, slick with sweat, slip every time he caught a glance at the dark knight's – no, his father's – threatening glare. After a few terse moments of struggle, the dark knight finally gained back the upper hand, slamming a palm full of bubbling, smoking, dark magic in Ceodore's face.

Ceodore clawed at his burning eyes and wailed pathetically, the taste of acid and rotting flesh filling his nose and mouth as he choked on an attempted Esuna spell. The dark knight took advantage of the distraction, yanking one leg free from Ceodore and violently smashing it into the boy's chest, sending him flying backward into Rosa and Golbez. The three of them crashed together in a tangled heap, Ceodore's weeping, scourge-ridden eyes spinning in their sockets as the back of his head struck something hard, dousing everything in black.

* * *

 _Mount Ordeals_

 _Scarmiglione…terrified?_

Porom didn't have much time to ponder Leonora's unexpected proclamation – the earthen fiend made a gruesome retching sound that she knew meant she needed to exit his splash zone post-haste. Snatching Leonora's arm, Porom dove out of the way, Palom dodge-rolling to the left. Seconds later, a stream of bile and blood came hurling out of Scarmiglione's slash of a mouth, dissolving the rocky floor where the three of them had been crouching only moments before and giving rise to a burst of foggy, noxious vapors. Leonora shrieked as she watched the earth liquefy before her eyes, the toxic concoction sinking into the cracks of the surrounding land and starting to eat away at it inch by inch.

"If we don't hurry, he'll destroy the entire summit!" she gasped. "There's going to be nowhere left for us to run!"

"Porom!" Palom cried from across the widening chasm, swinging his rod like a bat at the pustule of filth Scarmiglione had launched at him and watching as it exploded in mid-air, bombarding them all with a new wave of hellish stink that made the three mages desperately rush to cover their faces. From behind his hand, Palom finished his muffled thought: "We've gotta Twincast!"

"R-Right!" Porom blanched, feeling as if the star ring on her finger had suddenly shrunk five sizes – she could feel the band constricting around her flesh as every cell in her body became aware of the very real possibility that maybe she and Palom couldn't even cast such magic together anymore. They had practiced their craft of Twincasting relentlessly as children – enough residents of Mysidia would tell you with pride that the two of them had invented it long before the concept of a "Band" ever entered the layperson lexicon. But just having a relic to transmit the magic – their rings – wasn't enough. A relic could merely transform the power that had already been gathered to greater heights – the deepest of bonds, and a total synchronicity between two souls had to be present first and foremost.

 _And I now understand that it is not blood that makes a bond,_ Porom frowned. She thought of the Elder, who had been her father in all but name, and Cecil, who had been like a surrogate older brother to her and Palom since the day fate swept him into their lives.

 _But Palom…_

So much pain and misunderstanding had eaten away at their friendship in the last ten years – even though it seemed to her that they were stumbling toward forgiveness, Porom wasn't foolish enough to believe that the bad blood between them had been magically absolved just yet. Her heart racing, she tried to catch Palom's gaze as Scarmiglione raged on, the fiend alternating between violently expelling his sickness all over the now rapidly-disintegrating shrine and flinging broken rock, transformed into poison darts by the touch of his hand. She was in such a stunned state that she hadn't even realized Leonora was fervently bathing them in defensive magic to give them a fighting chance at surviving whatever Scarmiglione's next assault would be.

"POROM!"

Palom's shriek stirred her from her self-induced mental flogging, and she jumped back in surprise as a massive crystal shard, dripping in putrid acid, came flying directly for her face. With a flash of blinding gold light, the shard smashed into a Protect spell Leonora had cast, shattering on the ground at Porom's feet instead of being implanted in her forehead.

"Are you OK?" Leonora huffed, and Porom bit her lip.

"Yes…thank you."

"Ngh…arrrrgh!" Scarmiglione groaned, pausing in place as his bloodied claws tore at what little flesh was left on his head, another spray of pus and oily acid splashing on the ground. "Pleassse... Before...my very sssoul...is crushed!"

 _This might be our only chance!_ Porom clenched her jaw. _So why…why can't I…? This is just like when I was here before with Anja and Meghan and I couldn't cast Holy!_

"Lady Porom!" Leonora grabbed Porom's hand, biting her lip as the girl stared down dully into Leonora's eyes. Her face had gone white as a sheet, and her hands were blocks of ice. "Please…! Palom needs you!"

"I…" Porom gulped, a bead of sweat trailing down her temple. "What if I can't…?"

"…Are you afraid?" Leonora asked softly, her gaze searching Porom's with nary a trace of judgment. The Epopt had certainly sensed the strain between the twins even before she had been able to witness their dynamic when they were trapped in the tower together – and it wasn't as if Palom had not been very subtle about his current relationship with his sister when it had just been the two of them in Troia. But when they had been transported to Mount Ordeals, she thought perhaps things were getting better – she had felt the tiniest shift in their demeanor toward each other even as they bickered per usual.

"I don't know," Porom moaned, closing her eyes. "Maybe. Yes. Definitely."

 _If I can no longer Twincast with Palom…what does that say about any chances of us really reconciling? If we do make it back home…will things just go back to being the same as always, without the threat of a crisis breathing down our necks?_

"Um…" Leonora chewed her lip thoughtfully. She had never been much of a counselor – in fact, she was usually the one being counseled. So, she decided to tear a page out of the book from the last time she had gotten advice on such a subject – realizing that the person who had imparted it upon her had now become certainly as precious to her as he was to his sister.

"J-Just…close your eyes," Leonora instructed, and to her surprise, Porom complied, clenching them tightly shut while still clinging to Leonora's hand. "Now…just do whatever comes naturally to your body. Give in to instinct. Pour yourself into the one who holds your soul – whose soul, in turn, you hold as well."

"Palom…" Porom murmured, a faint holy aura starting to glow over the surface of her skin. Leonora stepped back quietly, releasing Porom's hand and turning toward Palom, who had fallen into a trance as well – glowing with his own midnight-stained aura.

 _I'll protect you both!_ Leonora swore, her eyes going back to Scarmiglione. She could feel the suffocating mix of hatred and terror rolling off of him in waves, her throat clenching at just the thought of breathing in any more of his toxicity. The fiend was writhing in an almost vulgar fashion on the crushed remains of the shrine, Leonora cringing as she watched him needlessly tear chunks of hair out of his leathery, battered flesh, all the while letting out a wail that she had no doubt was being carried across the moon. In a sudden fit, he flung out his gnarled claws, shooting dual Bio spells at the oblivious and entranced twins.

"R-Reflect!" Leonora cried, a curtain of rainbow light embracing the twins with just seconds to spare before the Bio spells collided into the two of them, bouncing off the Reflect spell and speeding back toward Scarmiglione. With a terrific crash and a cringe-inducing sizzle, the gloppy green slime of the spell drenched the fiend, sending him into a fit of delirious laughter as a blackened tongue snaked out of his mouth and licked the bottom half of his jaw clean. With gleaming eyes, he turned toward Leonora, launching himself with his hind legs and pinning her to the ground beneath his rotting husk of a body.

"AHHHHH!" she screamed, gagging uncontrollably as his offending stink invaded her nose and mouth, filling her lungs with a throbbing burn that felt as if she had been lit aflame. Squirming as the remains of the Bio spell dripped over her face and left in its wake a trail of acid-tinged flesh, Leonora struggled to roll herself onto her side, her legs flailing as her ballet slippers merely sank into pockets of squishy, atrophied muscle that hung listlessly from Scarmiglione's frame. She glared up into the dead hollows that were his eyes, and felt her body seize in place, the urge to fight suddenly abandoning her.

 _His fear is even stronger…there's something in his mind that is torturing him...it's almost as if he holds no control over his body..._

 _What is your connection to the Crystal of Earth? Why did I feel the same fearsome despair from our crystal that I can now sense within you…?_

Wondering if she was about to make the most foolish move of her life, Leonora closed her eyes, holding her breath to minimize the amount of contamination she had to inhale as she conjured her spell. Just when she thought her lungs could bear her efforts no longer, her hands shot up to Scarmiglione's face, clutching it closer to hers as she exhaled a painful rush of air, the spell uttered under her breath.

 _"Esuna!"_

Shimmering white light sprinkled over the fiend like a self-contained springtime storm, dancing on the raised hairs on his flesh and sinking into the hollow cavities of his exposed skeleton. A flash of cognizance flickered in his eyes, and he peered down at Leonora's face, twisted with fright as her hands continued to shakily cling to his face. The black tongue slithered back into his mouth, a half-smirk lined with broken teeth illuminating his features.

"I... thank you... I...am one of the spiritsss…of the land...or at least I was…once. I senssse inside you…what I once held inside me…a most sssacred power…"

"S-Spirits of the l-land?" Leonora stuttered, reluctantly lowering her hands. Scarmiglione nodded, his eyes lazily drifting upward as if he were stargazing. She couldn't help but follow his stare and was horrified to see a storm of meteors coming right for them, igniting themselves with dazzling red, blue and purple flames. Palom and Porom's spell had been a success – and she was square in their crosshairs!

But before Leonora could attempt to flee, she was startled to feel Scarmiglione throw his weight over hers once more, this time entirely covering her body with his own. Before his overpowering stench could register with her senses, she felt the relentless volley of meteors crash into him, cringing as a chorus of cracking bones and tearing flesh assaulted her ears. Although it felt like hours, the spell was spent in mere seconds – she hadn't realized she had squeezed her eyes shut until she felt a spill of sunlight pierce her eyelids. Palom and Porom had run to her side, twin looks of worry etched in their features as they hauled Scarmiglione's body off of her on the count of three.

"Are you OK?" Palom gasped, pulling Leonora against him before he could stop himself. Leonora's eyes slid open, stunned, and she found her hands involuntarily clutching to Palom's jacket as she gazed over her shoulder at the heap of rags that had become Scarmiglione's remains.

"We didn't know you were there!" Porom wailed, her eyes wide. "By the time we left our trance, it was too late…!"

"I…I'm fine…" Leonora whispered, trying to catch her breath – Palom was squeezing the life out of her. "Scarmiglione…he saved me…!"

"What!?" Palom pulled back, eyeing Leonora warily. "Are you sure you weren't having some sort of hallucination from his gas?"

"I'm positive!" Leonora pouted, shoving Palom aside and crawling to Scarmiglione's corpse. He was already starting to melt into an oily pool of black, flecks of crystal dust gathering in the spill like a swirling galaxy. Biting her lip, Leonora reached for her miter, pulling it from the pin in her hair and bowing her head deeply. Palom opened his mouth to call her back, but Porom shushed him before he could say anything, shaking her head.

Leonora could feel it – something was shifting in the earth beneath her knees. A warmth was flooding through the barren mountain rock…a spirit was being released back into the universe. She whispered the prayer softly under her breath so that only he might hear. "For what it is worth…I thank you… May your next journey be one of peace."

A gentle voice echoed in her ear as she lifted from her bow – she would have hardly recognized it if it wasn't for the dreadful lisp.

"Massster Golbez... I was hideousss...and yet... You came for me... You alone...cared not for my failuresss as a sssage of the land…"

"Huh?" Leonora gasped, holding her hand to her ear. "W…Wait!"

Porom and Palom looked at each other, blinking. Who was she talking to?

 _He's gone…_ Leonora sighed, settling back on her rear and watching as the swirling crystal shards gave birth to a new portal whose light spread over the remains of the now-destroyed shrine to Cecil's father. She clutched the miter to her chest, tears springing to her eyes. _Scarmiglione called Golbez's name…I wonder if he knows what happened to this lost spirit…what twisted darkness could turn a gentle sage into something like this?_

"Blue Planet to Leonora!" Palom exclaimed, and Leonora blinked, gazing up at the twins who were staring down at her bizarrely, like she had sprouted antennae or a third arm.

"Who were you talking to?" Porom gently asked, and Leonora quickly shook her head.

"J-Just myself. Maybe Palom was right, and I got a little woozy, breathing in all those nauseous f-fumes."

"If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have been able to conjure the Twin Meteor spell," Porom smiled, offering her hand. Leonora grabbed hold, allowing Porom to haul her to her feet and proceeding to brush all the filth from her robes.

"It felt a little like déjà vu, huh?" Palom smirked. "This moon has a lot more going for it than meets the eye. Not only is it making us see these weird places…but now the crystals are bringing back our old enemies, too. Makes me excited to see what's next!"

"E-Excited!?" Leonora blanched. "I hope the enemy – whoever it may be – at least lets us catch our breath first…"

"We'll have plenty of time to sleep when we're dead," Palom shrugged, poking the toe of his boot into the portal. "Besides…we've still gotta find Edward and Harley, and make sure they haven't been eaten by Scarmiglione's zombie army."

"…You're kidding," Leonora gulped, and Porom sighed.

" _Yes,_ he is. I…I'm sure Edward and Harley…and all the others…are fine."

But the quiver in her voice gave away her true thoughts on that subject.

* * *

 _"You fool!"_

Ceodore's cheek twitched at the sound of the painfully familiar insult, the boy clenching his eyes shut tighter and rolling over in his bunk so that whoever was bothering him would get the hint to go away.

 _Wait…_ _ **my bunk**_ _?_

There came the march of pounding boots against wood, and the sound of a hand colliding with flesh. It took a few moments before Ceodore realized what had happened, tears stinging in the corners of his eyes as he rolled onto his back and finally laid eyes on his visitor. At that moment, the shocked nerve endings in his cheek decided now was a good time to go into overdrive, and he felt the raging pain from the slap run up the side of his face like a river of fire. It took everything inside of him not to let out a blistering scream, as cathartic as that would have felt.

Biggs was leaning over him, one eyebrow arched and his hand poised for strike two. Ceodore immediately leapt out of the bunk, his eyes darting about frenziedly as he took in his surroundings. A small porthole that was filled with blue brilliance. Another tower of bunks across from his own, none of them occupied. The recognizable drone of a nearby engine room and the swooping propellers nearly muted by the deck above them.

 _This is…an airship? I'm home?_

 _So, everything that happened…oh my gods…it was just a long nightmare. Biggs and Wedge…and all the others…they never…!_

He quickly reached for his hip, his fingertips brushing over the familiar Baronian crest-imbued broadsword Cecil had given him before his trial had begun. Excalibur was gone…so, he must have dreamt of inheriting that, too.

"Biggs..." Ceodore began, but at that moment, Wedge appeared through the open doorway, rushing to Ceodore's side and grasping the boy's shoulders. Ceodore looked up at him blankly, and Wedge offered a pained smile in response.

"Now is the time for you to believe in your parents' blood... You must believe in yourself!"

"Wedge!" Ceodore stammered. "What are you going on about? My trial is over, right? I'm a Red Wing now. Why the pep talk?"

Biggs guffawed, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not going to be for much longer if you keep up this foolishness. What's your problem, Ceodore!?" Ceodore turned to him with bewildered eyes, his face twisted in confusion.

"Wait… _What_?"

Wedge clenched his jaw, digging his fingers harder into Ceodore's skin. "Don't you remember what Kain taught you?"

A daydream of corn silk and opalescent wyvern wings filled Ceodore's vision, his heart pounding with a puzzling ache as he found himself stumbling back against his bed, collapsing on the lumpy, down-stuffed mattress.

 _Kain…that name…how could they possibly…? He's been missing for years…since before I was born._

He clasped his hand to his mouth, another tear sliding down his cheek.

 _No…no, no, no, no, no…_

 _Kain…Mother…Father…_

A brilliant, holy light…the vicious melody of flesh torn asunder…the splash of Lunarian blood upon immaculate crystal…

 _…Golbez…!_

 _My waking nightmare…is my reality._

 _And this…this is the dream…_

"I...!" Ceodore gasped, pressing his hand to his chest. He could feel the birth of a miraculous light inside of him once again – a moonlit promise from long ago made manifest through the blessed blood that roared inside his veins.

He rose to his feet, brandishing his sword and lifting it high into the air. The chipped steel of his blade became encased in a lustrous light, transforming into the star-threaded, adamantite-forged holy blade, Excalibur. The light rushed down the rest of his body, infusing his blood with moonlight and filling the airship cabin with blinding radiance as Ceodore's platinum locks transformed into the same color as his piercing gaze.

"Yes!" Wedge pumped his fist in the air. "That's it!"

"That's the Red Wings soldier I know!" Biggs grinned, giving Ceodore a salute. "Now, get the hell out of here before I need to slap another round of sense into you!"

 _I cannot sleep just yet…my true trial as a knight has only just begun. Biggs…Wedge…thank you for sending me off one last time…!_

* * *

 _The Lunar Core_

When Ceodore next opened his eyes, he was greeted by the clash of onyx steel and holy light as he witnessed Kain diving from the top of a column, his lance smashing against the dark knight's dread blade in a last-moment parry. Rosa, who had been desperately trying to wake him, nearly cried out in surprise when his starlit eyes suddenly snapped open. Ceodore climbed to his feet, a rush of blood crashing in his ears as he withdrew Excalibur. The dark knight parried yet another attack, shrugging Kain off as he spun around, sensing the boy's revived presence.

"Who…what are you…?" the dark knight rasped, taking in Ceodore's transformed appearance and shrinking back slightly.

Ceodore marched toward him defiantly, raising Excalibur parallel to his chest.

"Cecil is my father... Rosa is my mother! And _I_ am their one and only son!" He feinted left, and as the dark knight shook himself free from his stupor and dove in for the counter, Ceodore quickly pivoted right and brought his sword upon the vulnerable stretch of flesh between the knight's neck and shoulder. A spray of red scattered over the floor as the dark knight howled and clutched the wound with a pulsing, purple hand, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"Ceodore!" Rosa gasped. _Be careful…! As a dark knight…your father was quite possibly more powerful than he is even now as a paladin!_

"Ceodore..." the knight hissed. "You would dare insult your father by spilling his blood with such a wretched holy sword?"

Ceodore gritted his teeth. "You...you aren't my father! My father is right _here_!" He gestured behind him, where Cecil was still staring despondently at his brother, the only movement on his suspended body the tears that continued to spill from his eyes. "And _you_ could never wield a sword of such righteousness!"

The dark knight raised an eyebrow, snickering. "Ceodore...you, too deny what's in front of you? All that pretentious light has done is blind you to the truth!" He lifted his sword, running his tongue over the curve of the onyx and scarlet blade and smirking when he took in Ceodore's shudder. "There is only one worthy of the most powerful dark blade in the world – the _Deathbringer_ – and its master stands before you!"

Behind him, Kain had been silently making his advance while Ceodore acted as a distraction, his lance raised. Just as he was about to make his strike, the dark knight whirled around, barking out a laugh as a demonsbane branded shield materialized on his arm and absorbed the blow, sending a blistering shockwave up Kain's arm before he rammed the shield into the dragoon and sent him flying backwards into another pillar. Ceodore ducked to the knight's exposed left side, but he was too slow, even with his heightened agility – the dark knight instead snatched Ceodore by his scarf, grinning wickedly as he lifted the boy off the ground and licked his teeth.

"All right, Ceodore... So be it... You, too, shall obtain eternity... In exchange for your life!" Behind the knight's ear, the knife that had felled Golbez was spinning wildly in the air, the shrieking whistle turning Ceodore's blood to ice. The spinning began to slow until its tip, still stained with Golbez's blood, was aimed directly at the boy's forehead.

"Ceodore!?" Rosa cried, tossing her hand in the air. "Prot…!"

But her spell was interrupted by a thunderous growl, the same black smoke that had ensnared Cecil spiraling toward her in a frenzy and gagging her mouth. Her eyes widened as her muted screams were absorbed by the dusk, and two more ribbons of smoke shot out, snatching her wrists and forcing them behind her back as she was shoved to her knees.

Ceodore could feel the knight's hold on his throat tightening, explosions of stars igniting behind his eyelids as his throbbing lungs screamed for air.

 _Golbez…Father…I'm sorry…you gave up so much…all for naught._

 _"_ Ceo…dore!"

A spark of silver light burned through Ceodore's closed eyes, and for a moment, he swore he could feel the familiar embrace of his father surrounding him once again – the same embrace he had shrugged off when he had left for his trial with the Red Wings, thinking that he had all the time in the world to feel the painful embarrassment of his father pretending he was proud that his nothing of a son was finally doing _something_ with his life.

 _If only that foolish boy knew then what I know now…_

 _You_ _ **were**_ _proud of me, weren't you, Father? You always were…even if I never gave you a reason to be._

 _I think I get it, now…why you gifted me with your elder brother's name…_

 _…You saw within him the mote of light that no one else could…believed in him until the bitter end._

 _It was the same with me, wasn't it?_

Ceodore heard the sound of the knife clattering to the ground, and warily opened one eye, coming to the realization that his chest was no longer on fire in its pursuit for oxygen. The dark knight was wincing in front of him, knees shaking, the hand wrapped around Ceodore's throat smoking and quivering as a silver wall of light that had manifested between the two men penetrated the knight's armor, eating away at his flesh. At last, the dark knight gave in, releasing Ceodore without ceremony as he quickly withdrew his bloodied hand from the light, cursing under his breath and pressing it to his chest. Ceodore felt a pair of sinewy arms catch him as he fell, a familiar flash of cerulean greeting him as he tilted his head backward to take in his savior.

"Father!" Ceodore inhaled sharply, wondering if he had slipped into another crazy dream – maybe the dark knight had already impaled his skull, and he was actually on the floor, bleeding out and waiting patiently for death. Cecil smiled down at him through a trail of dried, cracking blood streaked over his lips, gently hoisting a stunned Ceodore onto his feet.

Behind them, Rosa was staring, astonished, at the father-son reunion. The silver light that had shielded Ceodore had seemingly come out of nowhere, blasting its way through the chamber and sending a shiver down her spine when it washed over her and Golbez. When she had at last been able to blink away the assault on her senses, a discharge of vivant crystal dust exploded behind Ceodore, revealing a revived Cecil with radiance flooding his eyes once more.

"…Cecil!" Rosa cried, a fresh wave of tears springing to her eyes as she threw her head back, struggling desperately against the Binding Cold spell. Before Ceodore could gather himself enough to remember what magic he needed to use to save her, Kain's voice rang out from behind the dark knight, and an Esuna spell washed over Rosa, setting her free.

Cecil nodded to Ceodore, who was still staring up at him in daze. "Let's go, Ceodore! This isn't over quite yet."

"…OK!" Ceodore nodded, fumbling a bit as he held Excalibur up to Cecil. "Your sword, Father…!"

Cecil shook his head, pushing Ceodore's hands away much to the boy's shock. "No…not anymore."

"Thanks for taking your sweet time making your way back to us!" Kain smirked, the dark knight tearing his attention away from his wound far too late to realize Kain had snuck behind him. Kain smashed the base of his lance into the back of the dark knight's head, sending him sprawling to the floor, the Deathbringer clattering at Kain's feet. With a dismissive kick, he sent it flying over to Cecil, who caught it effortlessly with his right hand as he exchanged a secret smile with the dragoon.

 _Whoa…_ Ceodore blinked. _It's been seventeen years, but they've never fallen out of step with each other…this is the combined might of the paladin and the dragoon that is whispered with the same reverence as a legend back home!_

Unsurprisingly, the dark knight was not as impressed by Cecil and Kain's little show.

"Tsk. I...I am Cecil! The true Cecil!" he growled, snatching his knife and struggling back to his feet. "You…you are NOTHING!"

"Swords together, Ceodore!" Cecil cried, and Ceodore did as he was told, forming an "X" in the air with Excalibur crossing the Deathbringer. An explosion of blood-red sparks burst from where the blades met, igniting a scalding aura that consumed both weapons instantaneously and made Ceodore's eyes widen in horror – it was as if the Deathbringer was going to consume Excalibur whole. Behind them, Rosa folded her hands in prayer, a swirling radiance wrapping around her body as the shattered crystal shards throughout the chamber began to vibrate ominously against the floor, giving rise to a chorus of shrieking glass. Her eyes flashed a heavenly violet as she lifted her head and threw one hand in the air.

" _Holy!_ "

A beam of ultraviolet orbs shot out of the sky above Cecil and Ceodore, crashing into the raised blades and exploding in a series of purple-white flares that made Ceodore's cheeks burn. Both swords emerged from the explosion bathed in prismatic holy light, and father and son turned to each other, exchanging a single nod. Crystal-clear, Ceodore could hear his father's instructions for what came next in his head, even though Cecil's lips weren't moving – and he realized that _this_ was what Rosa had meant about him being able to speak to his fellow Lunarians, even within a dream.

 _I…I get it now!_ Ceodore's heart filled with a bittersweet glee that made him want to simultaneously burst into tears and laugh aloud. He thought back to the first – and _only_ – lesson Biggs and Wedge had taught him before turning him loose in the Adamant Isle Grotto to retrieve the Knight's Emblem.

 _It's exactly the same as executing a Band._

Pulling their blades parallel to their chests, Ceodore silently urged the churning, sprightly holy light he had captured in his weapon to release. As the dark knight ran toward them, his knife raised, both Cecil and Ceodore's weapons suddenly discharged, sending an overwhelming spectrum of holy-imbued orbitals smashing into the knight. The dark knight screamed, falling to his knees and clawing at his face, clumsily trying to pull the visor shut on his helmet to protect his eyes from the blistering light. In his hysteria, he didn't notice Cecil's shadow fall over him until it was too late – the Deathbringer, still pulsing with holy light, was pressed to the knight's forehead. He gazed up the trail of the blade into Cecil's clear, unrelenting eyes, bleating pathetically.

"Ridiculous...! How could _you_ be Cecil!? What...what does that make me, then!?"

Cecil tilted his head, a sad, mysterious smile forming. "It took me a long time to understand…but I think I finally know now. The answer is simple: You are myself, and I am you. What you speak is true...you are the me that shut himself away from the world, once upon a time. The me that could not accept what I once was, and what I might had become, had I not had the stupid luck to be the second-born son of a dreamer who longed to bring his people home. The me whose chaotic heart could not fully accept peace if it meant there were yet more sacrifices to be made."

Kain gritted his teeth as he lowered his gaze, clenching his lance with shaking white knuckles.

 _They were sacrifices that you needed not to bear alone, my friend…if only I had been selfless enough to help shoulder the burden…! I thought I was saving you by going away…I thought I was bringing you the happiness that had always just been shy of your reach._

The dark knight dragged his knuckles away from his eyes, and Ceodore covered his mouth to disguise his gasp. The knight's eyes had faded from red to a somber, lightless blue – just a few days ago, those had been the very same eyes Ceodore saw when he had looked into the cracked mirror in that dusty little Mythril Village inn the night of his trial.

 _I wonder when it was that I finally gained my own light…my own sense of worth…my pride for my family…and for my half-breed blood._ He glanced over at Kain, who had quietly slipped to Rosa's side. The two of them were watching the two Cecils silently, the backs of their palms brushing against each other. Watching them, Ceodore was vexingly overcome with the same anticipation one felt when they were knocking pieces of flint together, waiting for sparks to ignite.

 _Was it when I met you, Kain…?_

Cecil knelt to face the knight, reaching for his helmet. As his fingertips brushed the black steel, the dark knight let out a low hiss, the helmet starting to melt and expose a swath of pale, bruised, shadow-stained jawline. "But those days are over. You are no longer alone! Or rather… _we_ are no longer alone."

The dark knight closed his eyes, shrinking into himself as the retreating metal on his helmet transformed into a corroding luster, rapidly spreading over the rest of his body and sinking into the spill of crystal tiles beneath them when he had been completely consumed. Cecil closed his eyes as he shakily rose to his feet and pressed the pointed end of the Deathbringer against the floor. The pool of light drained out of the crystal and laced its way through the dark blade until the crimson bleed had faded to a pale pink, the onyx steel peeling away in flakes and emerging as a swell of brilliant alabaster. Cecil retrieved the sword and swung it into his sheath, a burst of opaque, ultraviolet, pearl-like bubbles showering the floor, detonating in delicate explosions of purple light like a miniature Holy spell. Ceodore swallowed as he watched the light fade away.

 _The sword…it transformed before my very eyes into a blade of hallowed light! Is that the true power of the holy paladin…?_

Not able to contain himself any longer, Ceodore followed his father's lead, hurriedly sheathing Excalibur and embracing Cecil's waist before anything else insane could possibly come between them. He couldn't go a second longer without ensuring that his very-much alive father was actually awake and that they were no longer drowning in that girl's twisted night terror.

"Father! I can't believe it…you're really back!"

"Cecil!" Rosa screamed, diving onto Cecil from behind and throwing her arms around his neck. Cecil burst into a happy smile, trying to peel Rosa off of him before she accidentally strangled him to death and spinning her around until he could pull her against him, pressing his mouth to hers eagerly. She closed her eyes, sinking against him as Ceodore made an involuntary gagging noise and yanked himself away before he became smashed between the two of them. At the sound of their son retching, Cecil and Rosa pulled away from each other, both blushing. Kain remained at a distance, a small smile on his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted so badly to join them, but he knew that the happy reunion would be cut short soon when Cecil came to realize what had befallen Golbez. More than anything, Kain wanted the little family to have these few precious moments of peace before the gravity of their situation came crashing down around them, yet again.

 _Cecil…there's so much I want to say…things I've been aching to tell you for seventeen years. But for now, it's enough to just be by your side again…_

 _This time, I won't run away – we'll face the darkness of what's to come, together..._

Cecil looked down at Ceodore, giving the boy a hard smack on the back that nearly knocked him on his face. "You've become a strong man, Ceodore!"

"Eh…" Ceodore blushed, scratching his head and secretly marveling at how quickly Cecil's strength had seemed to come back. "I owe it all to the people who helped me. Biggs...Wedge...Kain... and of course…"

"Of course…?" Rosa blinked, and Ceodore shook his head, as if it were so obvious.

"You two! Without my mother and father, I am nothing."

"Ceodore!" Rosa pressed her fingers to her lips, sniffling. Cecil hugged Ceodore, kissing his forehead as he tried to hold back tears of his own.

"Thank you, my son!"

Ceodore bit his lip, closing his eyes and letting himself cling to Cecil until he felt his father's muscles shift beneath his arms. Cecil had twisted his torso to look at Kain, wondering why he had not come to join them. Kain was smiling weakly, a veil of despair had clouding his features. Cecil's eyes trailed to the left, noticing a still black shadow. And next to Kain, bloodied and defeated…

"…Oh, gods," Cecil muttered, pulling away from Ceodore and shaking his head in dismay. "No…I thought…I thought that was just a nightmare that girl was showing me…!" He ran past Kain to Golbez's side, sinking to his knees as he gently turned his brother's body over so that he could see his face. Golbez's head lolled slightly, a lock of hair sliding down his forehead like spilled ink. Cecil's voice sputtered as a hiccup ruptured in his lungs. "No…! How…how did you possibly find me…!?"

"Cecil…" Kain kneeled beside him, lowering his head. "I'm so sorry… He…he wanted to do whatever he could to save you – he made his way to Baron with Rydia and flew us to this moon so we could find a cure. In the end…he asked for your forgiveness."

"No…" Cecil dug his fingers into his scalp, a low wail escaping as he shook his head again. "…I could hear your voice... it echoed across my mind, throughout the entire ordeal. That was what kept me from withering into an empty shell. And now, you're…you're…!" He dropped his hands to his lap, the will to fight…to be angry…to be _anything_ … fleeing from his body, deflating every muscle cell and molecule. He felt as if _he_ had been the one to be gutted, left to bleed out and fade to nothingness in the whorl of space.

"Father…" Ceodore closed his eyes, giving in to the tears rolling down his cheeks as he whimpered to himself. "I'm sorry…I should have done more…"

"Ceodore…" Rosa shook her head, pulling him against her and mumbling into his hair. "My darling…there was nothing you could do. Golbez…he made his choice. And in the end…I think it really did make him happy…even if he didn't quite realize what it would do those he left behind."

"It's stupid," Ceodore spat, feeling the seething hot rage start to boil in his chest as he thought back to his conversation with Golbez on the crystal plate. "He said he wanted to help Father…to help us! How is he helping anything by not being here anymore!?" The roar of his Lunarian blood pulsed in his ears, his heart throbbing in overdrive. "All of this…it's so _stupid_!" He yanked away from Rosa, stomping over to Golbez and shocking Cecil and Kain by throwing himself over his uncle's body.

"You…you promised…" Ceodore sobbed, clenching his jaw. "…That we'd talk about seeing the moon, when this was all over… Maybe that didn't mean anything to you, but… It actually meant something to me!" He clawed at the torn cloak where the knife had sliced through the roughly hewn fibers, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as his broken, gnarly fingernails made a very distinct, excruciating shriek that echoed in the silence of the chamber. The agonizing sensation shot up his fingers and into his forearm, launching a shiver down his spine.

"…Huh?" Ceodore lifted his head, his ears ringing, and stared at Kain and Cecil through water-logged eyes. "…Did you hear that?"

* * *

 _The Feymarch_

"W-Wait a second!" Ursula gasped, her eyes darting to the bloodied switchblade as it clattered to the floor. "…Rydia!?"

"My…queen…" Rydia whimpered, her fingers clutched over her abdomen as she began to fall backwards from the mountain of pillows. "Why…?"

"Rydia!" Yang bolted to her side, catching the slip of a girl in his arms before she could crash to the floor. Her face and lips were white with shock, and her eyes were two lightless orbs staring at the ceiling – he could see twin reflections of his face hanging within her dilated pupils. "She needs aid, urgently!"

"Damnation!" Cid muttered, tearing his supply pouch off and throwing it on the floor so he could dig through it. Luca kneeled down to help, and Ursula just kept staring at Asura, her fists clenched. She had never punched an otherworldly goddess before – she wondered if today was going to be her lucky day.

"Don't you have anything that can stay the blood?" Luca whimpered, and Cid pushed his goggles up and over his face, his wiry hair already matted to his forehead in a bed of sweat.

"I'm lookin' as fast as I can, girl!"

Yang shook his head despondently, not liking the way Rydia's skin was starting to grow colder against his own. "We haven't much time…she'll be lost to us if this keeps up much longer!" Ursula spun on her heel, ominously giving her knuckles a round of shudder-inducing cracks.

"Master – what of the fairies that were protecting you in Kaipo? Might they come to Rydia's aid if you call upon them?"

 _The Sylphs!_ Yang widened his eyes. _Of course…they can heal anyone – they've even revived me from the brink of death!_

"…It's worth a shot, Ursula!" Yang nodded. "Good thinking!" Asura hissed between her teeth in response, diving forward to grab the fallen knife. Ursula acted fast, going in low and tackling the eidolon queen's legs as she managed to kick the knife out of the way, sending it spinning across the floor to Luca and Cid. In a flurry of long, pale limbs, Ursula and Asura tumbled in a fierce wrestling match in the pile of bejeweled pillows, Ursula desperate to buy her father some time.

Dragging Rydia away from the crossfire, Yang gently laid her across the floor, his heart pounding as he placed his index and middle fingers against the curve of her skin just below her jawline. Her pulse was slowing by the second – he pulled off the sash tied around his shoulders and fashioned it into a bandage, wrapping it around Rydia's waist several times before tying it off to decrease the blood flow.

"My sylphs…can you hear me?" Yang whispered, watching as Rydia's drooping eyelids twitched at the sound of his voice. "Please…help me save the one you've formed a covenant with!"

A serene green light washed over Rydia's form, the lilt of a fragile giggle echoing in Yang's ear as the summoner's tangled emerald hair began to sparkle with the same glimmer as the Misty Valley after a summer rain. A mote of the delicate light leapt into the air from Rydia's chest, spinning above her dizzily in the shape of a lotus, and Yang's breath caught in his throat – he didn't dare to even breathe, lest he blow the mystic light away.

Ursula let loose a pained grunt as Asura managed to kick the girl off of her, sending her careening into the empty throne to their left that had belonged to Leviathan in the real Feymarch. As Asura directed her building rage toward Yang and Rydia, Luca removed her tomahawk from her belt, squinting as she lined up her target. She knew she couldn't outright kill Asura – not if Rydia were to have any chance of saving her – but she had to do something to keep the eidolon distracted.

"Here goes," Luca muttered, swinging her arm back and releasing the weapon with a mighty toss. The tomahawk whistled through the air, catching one of the folds in Asura's dress and pulling her down backwards as she screamed in shock and became pinned to the floor, the tomahawk's handle sticking straight-up.

"Yah!" Ursula cried, launching herself into a back flip off of the throne and delivering Asura a vicious kick to the head, knocking the queen's opulent bun out of place and sending a cascade of honey blonde hair spilling down her shoulders.

"Yang…" Rydia murmured, light blooming in her gaze once more. "How…?" The spinning lotus hovering over the summoner suddenly burst into the shape of a fairy, the sylph's opaque wings fluttering like a heartbeat as she drifted above Rydia's face and ran a Lilliputian hand down the curve of the girl's cheek.

"It's time to wake, little princess," the sylph cooed, giving Yang a conspiratorial wink as Rydia stared up at her, her mouth frozen half-open as she struggled to gather her faculties. Yang sank back in relief, pressing his hand to his chest to calm his anxious heart. When Rydia didn't reply, the sylph flew to the other side of Rydia's face, giving her temple a kick that amounted to no more than a flick from a normal-sized creature and making Rydia jump in surprise. "Hey now! The daughter of the King and Queen of Eidolons cannot just sit around and let such a travesty unfold in her very own kingdom, non?"

"Daughter…" Rydia groaned, her stomach involuntarily clenching as she recalled the slice of the blade rendering her flesh. It had been so easy for Asura to stab her…the queen's gaze had never once wavered in hesitance as Rydia had stared up at her lovingly, a pig awaiting slaughter. "Maybe that was true once, long ago…but before the eidolons were captured, I…"

"I know, you were banished from the Feymarch," the sylph shook her head. "Word gets around about these things, you know."

"Banished?" Yang blinked. "Rydia…why did you never tell us after all this time?"

"Did you know about this, Luca?" Cid asked, instantly recalling the summer he had flown Rydia, the twins and Luca to the Feymarch and how strange Rydia had acted that afternoon when they had returned to the ship. Luca flushed, turning away.

"…Maybe?"

"Why did I not tell anyone?" Rydia shook her head, a pained moan escaping her lips as Yang cupped her lower back to help her sit up. "Because I was ashamed of being chased out of the only place I felt truly at home…ashamed that everyone else seemed to know what was best for me – except for myself." She stared warily as Ursula and Asura continued to duel – the queen had managed to free herself from Luca's trap and was now going mano a mano with the Fabulian princess. "And now I've dragged all of you into my treachery…"

"Foolish," Asura sneered, fluidly reaching over her shoulder to unsheathe her scimitar – the intricately carved blade glimmered in the flickering light of the infinite candles that lined the walls, and Ursula leapt back, eyes wide. Even she wasn't brazen enough to test her fists against steel. "A false summoner dares to enter my chambers…and so shall die by my judgment!"

"False!?" Rydia gasped. "My queen! Please, stop this! It's _me_ , Rydia! I am no fake!"

"It's no use!" the sylph squeaked. "She's under the control of that girl!"

"But…she felt so alive…" Rydia sniffled, and the sylph crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, giving Rydia another kick on the tip of her sloped nose. Rydia reeled back, clenching her jaw as the sylph shook her head.

"No matter how alive she may _seem_ , she's still a walking corpse as long as that girl holds sway over her heart. Stand up Rydia, and fight for what's yours – or Asura will take away everyone that you love!"

"Come on, Rydia!" Luca cried as she and Cid ran to her side, each one of them grasping hold of an arm and lifting the stunned girl to her feet. "You've got this! We can't stop here – after we save Asura, we still gotta find Cecil and Edge!"

"You have no reason to feel ashamed," Cid said gently. "It matters not that you were ever banished from the Feymarch. The concept of "home" is not a place, my dear. Take it from an old geezer who's seen a lot of things in his seventy years…"

"Seventy-one," Luca corrected, and Cid shot her a glare punctuated by a shaking fist. As hard as she tried to fight it, Rydia felt her mouth jerk into a slight smile.

"Ahem. As I was saying…kingdoms fall, dwellings sculpted by man are overtaken by nature, and sometimes, I suppose…even entire stars are blighted from the sky. But no matter what universe we may find ourselves in… 'Home' is always _here_ ," he took Rydia's hand, gently laying it over her chest. "Our hearts, the hearts of our family and loved ones, and those of our friends…that is where humans are meant to draw comfort. And I'd bet every last airship I ever built that the same goes for Eidolons, too."

"Is that so…?" Rydia murmured, clenching her chest.

"The ancient one speaks true," the sylph said, fluttering in a semi-circle to face Asura. "Hurry, Rydia…there's not much time left. You must make your decision."

"Decision?" Rydia blinked, but the sylph disappeared in a flash of blinding light, saying nothing more. But then it came to her…what the petite eidolon had meant…

Rydia knew, deep inside her core, that Asura was the one who held the keys to the kingdom – that was why she had been waiting there for them, after all. She also knew thanks to the "glitch" in the library that their surroundings were being purposely force-fed to them, and that included any enemies that called the false Feymarch home. A battle with Asura was the last stand before achieving freedom – the mysterious girl had wanted to make Rydia suffer in every capacity possible.

But this time, Rydia didn't need to gather a rogue eidolon's power to penetrate a magic shield.

This time, _slaying_ their enemy was an option.

"Ahhhhh!" Ursula suddenly came barreling at them from mid-air, having miscalculated a flying kick that was countered by Asura's blowing her away with a Protect spell. Yang jumped forward to catch her, the girl crashing into his arms clumsily as he braced his knees and slid several feet back on the floor from the impact.

"Are you OK?" Yang asked, and Ursula nodded dizzily, her headband slipping over her eyes.

"Yes…Master…I'm sorry I couldn't keep her distracted longer…"

"Shush, foolish girl," Yang commanded – but he was smiling slightly. "You did beautifully."

 _What am I going to do?_ Rydia panicked. _My friends aren't fighting at full strength because they are trying to save her – but if we keep this up much longer, she will overpower us and we'll be buried here! How can I wake Asura up if she's convinced_ _ **I'm**_ _the fake? That girl…she did this so that there would be no way I could win!_

 _But if Asura is placated by my removal…she may let the others proceed unharmed. And if she does not…they will be willing to fight her, and they would undoubtedly win. Asura is powerful, but she is still but only one against many – if they combined their strengths, they would surely overcome her – just as I once did with Cecil and the others._

Rydia raised her head, swallowing the bile rising in her throat as she took a defiant step toward the rampaging queen. Surprisingly, Asura lowered her blade, arching one perfect brow and tilting her head.

"Have you come to accept your fate, mimic?" Asura sneered, and Rydia took a deep breath, clenching her fists.

"…Yes. Execute me for my crimes, if you must."

"Rydia!" a chorus of screams and protests erupted behind her. She raised one hand, silencing them.

Before Rydia could blink, Asura snatched her by the collar of her leotard, throwing the girl down to her knees and holding her in place with one hand, while the other rose high in the air with the sword. Rydia's gaze followed the blade through its journey in the air, grateful that the blur of tears acted as a shroud to hide what was to come next. Her eyes flicked to Asura's, who was staring down at her with a hatred so overwhelming that Rydia thought for sure the chamber itself would spontaneously combust.

"No, please!" Luca suddenly burst out, half-sobbing and half-screaming as Cid struggled to hold her back. "Rydia, this isn't the way!"

 _I'm so sorry..._ Rydia closed her eyes, biting down on her lip as she slowly lowered her head. _But I fear there is no other choice…I have to see this through, even if it means my end. That's what you would do…right, Cecil?_

The "whoosh" of the blade cutting through the air made the hair on the back of Rydia's neck stand up on end. Then came the torturous chill – like a thousand icicles were piercing her skin – and deafening silence. Concentrating on the flutter of her fading pulse in her ear, Rydia made a final plea to the stars and any gods that might be listening.

 _I wish…more than anything else in this world…that I can be reborn as an Eidolon… So that I can pledge my heart eternal to the ones I love._

"…What…what is this…?"

Rydia's mouth twitched – that was Asura's voice, wasn't it?

 _Wait…I'm not dead?_

Slowly, she opened her eyes, finding herself surrounded by a swirling shade of opalescence. Asura was cowering over her, her eyes wide and tears spilling down her cheeks as Rydia watched the scimitar fall from her hand and pierce the floor only inches away from her bowed head.

"It's been a while, Mother."

A soothing alto that felt like a hug from an old friend was pouring over Rydia, ringing in the chamber as clear and crisp as church bells. Turning her head in confusion, she saw no one the voice could have possibly belonged to – she only saw Yang, Cid, Ursula and Luca, their faces masks of shock. Suddenly, a soul-chilling rush of breath expelled from Rydia's lungs, unbidden, and she watched as the shade before her swirled into a column and became the shape of a young man, dressed in the same ornate, silver-threaded robes she used to see on all the monsters in the Feymarch, a crowning glory of silky platinum blue hair, low-lighted with violet streaks, tumbling down his back in waves. Though she couldn't see his face, she had a most-certain vision in her mind's eye that he had beautiful turquoise eyes.

"Kasumi," Asura breathed. "Are you…are you not an illusion as well?"

The man shook his head, and Rydia felt a few delicate drops of misty spray sprinkle over her nose as he did so.

"I'm really here. I'm sorry that it took me so long – the surface world of our beloved star is in much agony. It's taking everything I have to protect just my village – yet I can feel the planet crying out from every corner – all creatures, from all walks of life, are suffering. It won't be long until it's all over, I'm afraid – our plane will fall alongside the Underworld and the Overworld once the planet is decimated."

"Our home is in danger?" Asura whispered, shaking her head. "Impossible…I've been keeping guard this entire time and have felt nothing within the Feymarch."

"That's why I'm here," Kasumi said, reaching for Asura's hand. "To wake you from this long nightmare. It's thanks to Rydia that I was able to find you again – you must rejoin the covenant you share and help her fight the evil that threatens us all. She has rescued your beloved subjects and seeks to free the King and the All-Father too."

"Rydia…?" Asura pressed her fingers to her lips, now staring pointedly over Kasumi's shoulder at the cowering summoner. "…But then that means…that I almost…" Her cheeks went pale as she sank to her knees, covering her face and releasing a harrowing howl.

"Your Majesty!" Rydia cried, outstretching her hand. Her fingers brushed through the man's leg, and he turned to face her, his body fading into a curtain of dissipating mist just before she could make out his face. His peaceful voice echoed in the air, causing both Rydia and Asura to look up in unison.

 _"I'll always be by your side, Rydia...thank you for letting me see her one last time."_

 _What…what just happened!?_ Rydia blinked, wrinkling her mist-covered nose. _That man…he couldn't have possibly been…?_

And then came the faint cry of a dragon, confirming her suspicions.

"Rydia…" Asura turned her gaze upon her, her violet eyes awash with sorrow. "I am sorry… Thanks to the strength of your will, I finally managed to escape the clutches of that evil girl."

Rydia shook her head quickly. "Please, don't – I'm just so glad you recognize me again! I…I'm so happy to see you…it feels as if it has been years since that terrible day…!"

The two women embraced tightly, Asura smoothing down Rydia's waves as she drank in the presence of Rydia's friends standing before them. Yang bowed deeply, elbowing Ursula hastily to do the same. Flushing, Ursula quickly dipped down, wondering how forgiving the queen might be about the serious beat down she had gifted her. Cid's face erupted into a ruddy blush as he finally got a good, long, not-clouded-by-fear look at all of Asura's…ahem…assets. And Luca, already bored of this whole thing now that the handsome (at least, she figured he was handsome from what she had seen from behind) interloper had disappeared, merely gave a nod and tilted her visor.

"I apologize, Rydia…" Asura pulled back, resting her hands square on Rydia's shoulders. "The way that I chased you out from the Feymarch…I just didn't know what else to do. I fell into a panic when I felt that girl's presence and wasn't thinking straight."

"No… Don't blame yourself. You were only trying to do what was best for me. I understand that now."

Asura flushed, shaking her head. "Oh, Rydia… I've wanted for so long to see you again. You were so brave to make it this far – braver than I will ever be in this lifetime, or the next."

"Your Majesty…" Rydia sniffled, throwing her arms around Asura's neck and burying her face into the heavenly cushion of Asura's freed locks.

"From now on, I shall always be together with you. Feel free to call upon me whenever you please."

"Y-Yes, my queen!" Rydia peered up at her, rubbing away a stray tear. "But may I ask just one question before we depart? That man…Kasumi…I never knew you had a son. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Ah…" Asura smiled, her voice taking on a dreamy lilt as she shook her head. "I guess it just never occurred to me that you didn't already know – at this point in my life, I've spent far more years without my beloved son by my side than I have with. He was, of course, born as heir to the Feymarch, should something ever happen to the king or I – and he is the All-Father's one and only grandson. But he so loved the surface world and had become enamored with a summoner beyond what one would consider just a normal pact between human and eidolon. He made the decision to remain by her side for eternity – while his physical form as a dragon remained on the astral plane until he was summoned, his soul became bound to the summoner he had sworn to protect – that was your mother, Adeline, of course."

"My…mother?" Rydia shook her head, flabbergasted. "He…loved her?"

"Beyond all else," Asura smiled. "But of course, a human and an eidolon could never be together – I think he recognized that fairly early on in his infatuation, but he loved her dearly enough to ensure she could live a peaceful and happy life by becoming the protector of her village. So strong was their bond, that when he was slain in battle, Adeline fell too…but I suppose you know the rest."

"Yes…" Rydia pressed her lips together. "…But in the end…he was still a phantom of another world, and when Mommy fell, his soul was eventually freed to make a covenant with another."

"Yet, he still protects your village to this day…and his Adeline's most precious treasure has now become his," Asura tucked a lock of hair behind Rydia's ear, tilting her head. "That ruby I gave you…it was Kasumi's parting gift to me so very long ago. He told me that the village he had sworn himself to bloomed in a riot of hyacinths all year-round, impervious to the seasons of the rest of the planet. He carved one in ruby to remind me of him whenever I was lonely.

When I first laid eyes on you, I knew right away what a special child you were…I could see the holy aura Kasumi had bestowed upon you, and I still perhaps wonder if that is what ultimately drove Leviathan's madness in his bringing you here in the first place. In another reality, had the fates been kinder, you could have been my Kasumi's heir…it was the very moment we met that I decided the hyacinth should be passed to you."

 _A relic doubly blessed with the love of a son for his mother, and a mother's love for those her son vowed to protect,_ Rydia smiled. _That's how I was able to free the other eidolons from their nightmares…it wasn't just the power of my heart…but the hearts of so many others, entwined and rendered invincible._ She gazed back at her friends, tears stinging her eyes as she gave them a reassuring smile.

 _I…I understand everything now. My friends…they are my greatest weakness, but also my most powerful strength – a strength that spans universes, dimensions, time, all that is human and all that is eidolon._

 _That's why Asura wanted me to be with them…because she understood, thanks to Kasumi, where my "home" really was this entire time. She was just waiting for me to figure that out on my own, same as he…_

 _But we haven't much time left – we have to escape this place and find the others before it's too late! That girl will be furious that Asura has been freed – she'll know before long if she doesn't know already!_

"Your Majesty, do you know where Leviathan is?" Rydia frowned. "We've searched this entire village, but you're the only soul we've come across thus far."

Asura turned to Rydia once more, extending her hand. "I can take you to Leviathan – there will be no escaping this place without facing him, I am sure – that girl is a sadistic enough creature to enjoy such a show. Are you prepared for what you may have to do, Rydia?"

"I have no choice," Rydia replied firmly, grasping Asura's hand. "Please…take me to him. No matter who stands in my way…I must stop the one who threatens our home world!"

* * *

 _The Lunar Core_

Cecil warily lifted his head, and Kain nodded, his mouth set in a straight line.

"What _was_ that?" Rosa blinked, approaching Ceodore from behind. "It sounded like someone running a blade over glass." Ceodore turned to Golbez and swallowed back the bile he could feel creeping up his throat as he reached down and swiftly unfastened the cloak – he didn't want to give himself enough time to change his mind. The folds of fabric fell away, revealing a devastating sight – a spill of diamond-esque crystal slivers and larger, jagged shards pouring out of the containment of the cloak, some tinged in blood, some shining unblemished like a prism held to sunlight. A few of the shards were embedded in Golbez's chest, a collection of small, clotted wounds that appeared to be where most of the now-dried blood had come from.

But what was perhaps most disturbing was the lack of an expected puncture wound from the knife. There was a distinctive gash over Golbez's heart where the blade would have made contact…but even so, it was far too shallow…

"…What is all this?" Rosa gasped. Cecil plucked one of the bigger crystal shards out of Golbez's chest, narrowing his eyes as he held it before him.

"This crystal…it's so familiar…"

"But none of the Blue Planet's crystals are that color," Kain frowned. "Nor the Red Moon's, if I'm remembering correctly. Golbez told us they were all shattered, at any rate."

"But I do know this crystal," Cecil insisted, his voice rising slightly as the memories came flooding back in a moonlight-stained flux. "I…"

* * *

 _17 years prior…_

 _"Brother!"_

Golbez opened his fingers slowly, revealing the crystal within. It was dwarfed in his massive hands; the color of a diamond, and had a rainbow sheen that sparkled in the dying starlight.

"Cecil…it must be you…" Golbez wheezed and dropped the crystal from his hands. Cecil picked it up, feeling an unmistakable warmth flood his body – the same warmth he felt when he held the crystals of the Blue Planet... The warmth of a crystal shedding its light. He looked to Golbez's fading form as if to ask what to do…how was _this_ the key to unveiling Zemus's true form?

* * *

"The ninth crystal," Cecil whispered, the shard between his fingers starting to glow a faint blue that made his eyes glint like polished sapphires. "The only crystal the Lunarians managed to save when their planet was destroyed. It was meant to be a gift to the Blue Planet when the time came for our people to live among each other."

 _I filled this crystal with my light – with the very essence of life itself – to defeat Zeromus once and for all. After the battle, Fusoya took it with him when he and Golbez left us to sleep. So how did it end up here…?_

Cecil gently placed the glowing shard on Golbez's chest, and the rest of the pieces of the crystal began to glow alongside it, emitting a tender warmth that radiated from Golbez's exposed skin. Ceodore began to sob harder at the thought of his ancestors being chased away from their planet by a monstrous force, realizing that their pain and sacrifice had only been a catalyst for history to repeat itself with his own planet too short a time later. His tears splashed over the spill of crystals, sending a ripple of light seizing through Golbez's body – a spray of moonlight dancing over the ocean's waves.

 _Why…why do I have this power if I cannot use it to save what matters most? What's the point of any of this suffering if the world is just going to die?_

"Cecil..."

The whisper that drifted into the stillness was gravelly, exhausted, pained – but encapsulated with promise. Ceodore's sob stalled in his throat as he watched the crystal Cecil had lain upon Golbez's chest slide down the curve of his skin and clatter without ceremony onto the floor. He could feel his mother's hands clenching his shoulders – her own breath held in anticipation.

"Golbez?" Cecil gasped, and his brother's lips twitched slightly in response. The small avalanche of crystal shards joined the first, tumbling down his chest and abdomen as a swell of breath flooded his lungs, two dull violet slits greeting the Baronians.

"You're alive!" Ceodore shrieked, and Golbez winced in reply, which Ceodore officially decided was the best reaction he had ever gotten from someone that he thought he'd never see again. Rosa's face flushed with happiness, and she immediately went to work casting Curaja. Bathed in sparkling rainbow light from the spell, Golbez lifted himself slightly higher, using his elbows to prop himself as he stared, bewildered, at Cecil and Kain.

"…What happened?" He then glanced down at his chest, the rest of the crystal debris falling away and leaving a faint trail of sparkles over his heart that caught the dying light in the chamber. "What is all this?"

"It _was_ the ninth crystal Fusoya took back from Cecil after Zeromus was defeated. You weren't holding on to it this entire time?" Kain asked, eyebrows raised, and Golbez shook his head.

"No. I held possession of no crystal. I felt something hot inside my chest right before everything went black, but…I don't remember anything after. I thought my body was just going into shock from the attack."

"…I get it," Cecil suddenly blurted out, everyone turning to stare at him. He grabbed one of the shards that had fallen to the floor, holding it in front of Golbez's chest. Once again, the shard pulsed prettily with blue that highlighted the shadow-scarred ultraviolet of Golbez's stare. "Golbez, what happened to the crystal before you and Fusoya went to sleep?"

"I'm not sure," Golbez frowned. "He used some sort of spell to send it away – I figured he was just hiding it in the same dimension in which he had kept it until we confronted Zemus. There are many layers of hidden dimensions where the Lunarians sleep – it's all warped, distorted space to keep them safe from outside invaders. When he went to sleep, the crystal was not in his hands – nor did I see it with him before I came to the Blue Planet a few days ago."

Cecil nodded, as if this was exactly what he had been expecting to hear. "I believe that Fusoya would have hidden it away before he went to sleep – there would have been no need for the crystal to be left vulnerable, even with Zemus gone. But he _didn't_ send it to another dimension. I think he hid it inside of you, Golbez – and when you were in mortal danger, the crystal awakened and saved your life."

"What!?" Golbez shook his head, confusion igniting his eyes. "Such a foolish notion, even coming from you, Cecil." Kain couldn't help but snicker at Golbez's familiar scorn, and Ceodore's jaw dropped. Golbez noticed his nephew's adverse reaction and shrugged, having the decency to at least pretend to be sheepish. "Sorry…old habit, I suppose. What I meant to say was…I can't use this crystal. I've _never_ been able to – a heart steeped in darkness cannot possibly bid a crystal to shed its light. I believe we established that fact long ago when I originally tried to use it on Zemus."

The insulting comment didn't even register with Cecil. He merely tapped the crystal shard to Golbez's chest, staring relentlessly into Golbez's eyes. "Maybe that's exactly why Fusoya left it in your care. For light to shine, there must be darkness – and for a shadow to be cast, there must be light. Each sustains the other. Your heart kept the crystal safely hidden – and in turn, it shed its light for you when you needed it most."

Golbez said nothing as he took the shard from Cecil's outstretched hand, narrowing his eyes in thought and turning it over in his fingers. There was a brief flash, and for a moment, he swore he saw Fusoya's watery blue gaze peering at him through the now-dulled glass.

 _Fusoya…you knew all along, didn't you? You knew from the moment you woke up that I would join the others on the Blue Planet…and that you were going to send me alone, with the crystal – the last remaining relic of our people. You knew the Red Moon was to perish…and even still, it was me you chose to save…!_

If Golbez wasn't so painfully aware of the rather awkward marvel of having four pairs of eager eyes boring into him, he might have allowed himself the indignity of having a cry. But he supposed something like that would have to wait for later – he knew he hadn't been given a second chance just to wallow in the nostalgia of what could have been. Cecil had somehow made it back to them safely while he was deep asleep, the crystal's light coursing through his veins and rushing to make him whole again – but his little brother's awakening was only a fraction of what they had needed to accomplish, and time was quickly running out.

Kain slugged Cecil on the arm, grinning. "It's been far too long since I've enjoyed one of your rambling soliloquies, Cecil!" Cecil turned to face him, slugging him back twice as hard. Rosa couldn't help but silently delight as she watched the two of them – she felt as if she were a teenager again, observing them playfully brawl in the pub after another long mission.

"To say nothing of you and your biting wit, Kain!" He shook his head, blushing fiercely. "My dearest family…I simply don't know how to thank all of you enough!"

"You could help us with taking down this moon," Rosa smiled. "And when we get back home, maybe you could take over the planning of Ceodore's celebration, as well?"

"Mother!" Ceodore groaned, having totally forgotten how embarrassing an affair that was going to be, and Cecil laughed.

"Whatever you want, my dear…it's yours!" He turned to Ceodore, smiling. "I'm excited to hear about your trial once we're back home. But I never doubted you would come back to us a knight – I could tell as soon as the darkness was lifted from my eyes that something powerful inside of you had awoken."

"Father…" Now it was Ceodore's turn to blush. Maybe a _little_ party when they made it back home wouldn't be so bad after all – there would be a lot more to celebrate than just him, after all. Cecil rose, extending his hand toward Golbez. The sorcerer reluctantly grabbed hold, worried that him being back to full strength would overpower his comparatively diminutive brother – Cecil had felt as slight as a feather the entire time Golbez had been carrying him. But Cecil's vitality held firm, his body not swaying an inch as he hauled Golbez back to his feet. The two men stared at each other for a moment, Golbez finally dropping Cecil's hand and crossing his arms over his chest.

"So, now what?"

Cecil didn't skip a beat. "Now, we make haste. We must stop this moon and ensure the future of our homeland! You can fill me in on everything I've missed along the way."

"Heh…You've made it this far, then?"

A portal of blue light tore open the floor in front of them a few feet away, where the crystal throne had sat before being decimated. Out of it leaped the mysterious girl – or at least, one of her copies – her smile never wavering even as her bare feet crunched against the sharp crystal shards scattered about.

Cecil clenched his teeth, immediately reaching for his sword, and Kain, Rosa, Golbez and Ceodore protectively flocked around him. The mysterious girl chuckled at this, motioning with her hand as if she were trying to calm a rowdy pen of kindergarteners.

"Cecil has returned to you, I see. But it means nothing. Your planet has completed its role. Its fate has not changed one bit...nor has yours. Cecil was just a means to an end…it's a shame you wasted what little time you had left trying to save him."

"How dare you talk about someone we love so dearly as if he means nothing?" Rosa hissed. "And what do you mean, our planet's role!?"

Ceodore bit his lip. What in the world was that witch going on about now? _Maybe there was a time when I hated my role in life – my role on our planet as the Prince of Baron. That all ended once I embarked on this journey! That role I hated... it was all just in my own head – and now I know what's most precious in this life._

"And while you are answering our questions…what's _your_ role in all this?" Golbez pointed at her threateningly, her gaze following his finger as she cloyingly bit her lip. "Don't you think it's about time you've enlightened us? I've chased you through three celestial bodies, now…and I've had about enough."

She smirked. "I suppose it is all too incomprehensible for such earthbound maggots as you to understand – I won't bother explaining if you're still not able to figure it out. But I will be fair. You are free to choose how your deaths play out. This is your final decision – I leave it up to you to make."

"Is that what you've determined?" Kain forced a laugh. "A shame. We haven't given up yet, I'm afraid! Run away, if you feel so compelled. This won't be the last you see of us."

"Fate is not something set in stone," Cecil glared. "If you want to change it, all you have to do is believe – I'm proof enough of that."

The mysterious girl sighed. "I grow bored of this." She opened another portal behind her and stepped inside, shooting the party a filthy glare. "My offer still stands – I'll be anxious to see which path you take to your doom." And with that, she disappeared from sight – but the portal she had originally arrived in remained open on the floor…beckoning to the five of them.

"…Do you think we'll find whoever is doing this to us in there?" Ceodore blinked, and Cecil reluctantly lowered his hand from his weapon, swallowing painfully.

"What makes you think it's not just the girl behind all this?"

"Well…" Ceodore bit his lip. The dream he had had on the Lunar Whale was still bothering him…that cold, but lonely, voice still resonated in the very depths of his heart.

 _"Darkness… Light… In the end, none of it matters…"_

 _That voice spoke like those girls do…disconnected from existence itself and lackadaisical…_

"I guess I don't know for sure," Ceodore backpedaled, and Rosa sighed.

"We have no choice but to press forward – and we still need to find the others, too!"

"Others?" Cecil frowned. "You mean to tell me…"

"Rydia, Edge, Cid, Edward, Yang, the twins…we brought an entire army with us this time," Kain said. "And then some. You'll see in good time, I'm sure."

"Because everyone was so worried about you," Rosa added, and Cecil lowered his head.

"…I appreciate it. From the bottom of my heart. But I don't know how I'll even begin to repay my debt…"

"You can worry about that later," Golbez grunted. He felt compelled to keep Cecil's spirits bolstered, being that he knew exactly how his little brother felt. "We haven't the time to sit here and dwell."

"Right," Cecil nodded. "…Thank you." He turned to the portal and took a deep breath. He had no idea what to expect to find on the other side – he felt like a newborn, senses alit and buzzing with every new taste, smell, sight and sound since his veil of darkness had been lifted away. He could only pray that they were not too late…that in the end, the role he had played in this saga would not be the one to doom their beautiful planet. If he believed, they would surely be blessed with another miracle…right?

* * *

 _The Feymarch – Outskirts_

The stretch of land, each side surrounded by an ocean of bubbling magma, at last came to a dead end near a blackened, jagged flank of rock that stretched upward into infinity – whether it was a mountain or perhaps merely the end of the simulation that had been planted for them, Rydia could not tell.

But sitting on the ledge of the land, his back turned toward them with his legs crossed and his palms overturned over each knee, was a familiar old man with a shock of wiry white hair running down his back and partially hidden under a shabby, patched many times-over stocking cap. Cautiously stepping forward, Rydia extended her right hand, trying to keep the quiver in her voice to a minimum.

"My lord! What are you doing here?"

There came no reply. Shivering, Rydia took another step, wondering how anyone alive could possibly be as still as the eidolon king at that moment. Behind her, Asura stood guard, her hair drifting like liquid gold as a molten blast of heat vented from a crater nearby, and Yang, Ursula, Cid and Luca had taken position behind Asura, all at Rydia's insistence.

 _I can't risk their lives again…I know what I must do if there is no bringing Leviathan back…_

 _And I won't let them become complicit in the most heinous of sins – patricide._

"My lord?" Rydia tried again, and at last, Leviathan turned to face her, his miles-long beard embedded in ash and slow-burning embers from the magma that had bubbled up uncontrollably and splashed upon him. The rest of his robes were also covered in burn marks and holes where the fabric had been completely eaten away, his eyes dull holes of milky white that Rydia had only ever seen when he was fully transformed as a sea serpent. Asura drew in a sharp breath, shaking her head.

"So, it's true… He's fallen to the enemy, too."

"Please, my lord! Wake up!" Rydia cried.

"Can't he hear us?" Luca asked softly. "What's going on?"

Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped inside Leviathan, filling him with surging energy, he charged forward with all the speed and agility of a striking cobra, snatching Rydia by the neck and lifting her high in the air as he extended to his full magnificent height, normally "disguised" with his sloppy posture and diminutive personality he took on when in his human form. Gasping for air, Rydia kicked her legs furiously, clawing at his vein-streaked hands to no effect.

"My king!" Asura barked, unsheathing her sword and jamming the hilt into Leviathan's stomach. He stumbled back as the breath was knocked out of him, dropping Rydia like a discarded toy. Luca and Cid hurried to her side, but she brushed them off, still desperate to draw air back into her lungs as she struggled to her feet. She could already feel the bruises starting to bloom around her neck, her throat aching warningly when she finally summoned the strength to speak.

"No…please…! Stay far away!"

Leviathan glared up at Asura as he clutched his abdomen, and the queen marched up to him, waving her sword threateningly.

"Have they stolen your soul as well as your body!?"

Leviathan continued to seethe, his glare now fixating on Rydia as she shrunk away, stumbling a few steps back behind Asura.

Asura awarded this affront with a slap across his face, her gaudy rings leaving multi-faceted imprints in the apple of his cheek. "Don't you understand me!? It is I, Asura, and here is Rydia, the daughter you hold so dear!"

"Please, Your Highness! You must remember!" Rydia tried, clasping her hands together. "I don't want to hurt you…please open your eyes!"

"What's wrong with him?" Ursula asked. "He's not acting at all like Asura was – the lights are on, but no one's home."

"This is what Rydia had to face with all of the other eidolons she rescued," Luca explained. "They were just mindless husks that the mysterious girl was manipulating from within their hearts – they didn't recognize her or even understand her when she spoke. She was able to use the light of her hairpin to bring them to their senses – Golbez told her that ruby had the property to dispel nightmares, and it worked brilliantly until Titan ground it to dust."

"Golbez told her that?" Cid's shock was evident even with the sweltering steam and heat fogging up his goggles. "You mean…he actually helped you guys out?"

"Yes, several times," Luca nodded, biting her lip. "In all honesty, I wish he were here right now…I bet he would think of something to finally put an end to all this."

 _Naïve girl,_ Cid sighed, turning away.

While Rydia and Asura pled with Leviathan to come to his senses, the lord of the seas had been silently conjuring a spell under his breath, the rolling waves of magma surrounding them rising into higher and higher swells by the minute. By the time Asura had noticed the overpowering waves that were rising behind her, it was too late to stop them – she could barely manage to sling a round of Reflect magic on the party before the blistering assault. The boiling tidal wave bounced off the rainbow shields that had manifested in front of the party, slamming into Leviathan and washing him away as he let out a devastated howl, sinking under the magma.

"NO!" Rydia shrieked, diving forward and grabbing at Leviathan's outstretched hand as the undertow of the spell dragged him away. Buckets of sweat poured down her face and neck as she felt the magma rapidly eat away at the remains of her shield, throwing all of her strength into one last mighty tug. Leviathan flopped back onto the land, the hair-curling stench of burning flesh filling Rydia's nostrils as he stared up at her, dead-eyed.

 _Remember who I am!_ Rydia silently begged, clutching the old man's hands within her own. She saw a vein throb in his temple, and suddenly found herself flipped onto her back, the wind knocked out of her body as Leviathan appeared before her in another flash, his hands sinking into her lips and jaw and forcing her head toward the pool of magma below.

"Stop! Please, stop!" Asura commanded, but Leviathan responded by summoning another tidal wave to keep them busy. Turning his attentions back to Rydia, she watched with terror-stricken eyes as he wordlessly resumed his attempt at her drowning, mechanically adjusting his hands and the level of pressure applied as she flailed beneath him.

 _Is this really it?_ Rydia gulped, the sickening smell of scorched hair her final warning that she had to make her move or render her life forfeit. _To come this far, and have to take the life of someone I love…I…_

 _…I just can't do it!_

 _Cecil…Edge…forgive my selfish heart!_

Rydia squeezed her eyes shut, uttering the name of her mother's dragon as she felt Leviathan's fingers digging into her windpipe in an effort to cease her struggling. The Mist Dragon emerged above her and Leviathan in a burst of fog and moonlight, throwing his head back and releasing a pained scream that echoed ominously against the infinite cavern. Her breath failing her, Rydia tried to picture the dragon's turquoise gaze in her mind's eye as explosions of stars and numbing darkness overtook her senses. Her body was executing a final act of mercy – surely her nervous system would completely shut down before her head was plunged beneath the magma so that she at least wouldn't have to feel the excruciation of being boiled alive.

 _My beloved dragon…my final request is to be bathed in holy mist._

She heard another scream, feeling Leviathan's fingers lift off of her in confusion as the soothing sprinkle of pure, chilled mist fell over her body and danced in glimmering beads over her skin, transforming her into the living embodiment of one of the Overworld's crystals. She could feel her assailant's weight slowly lifting from her body – when she opened her eyes and attempted to lift her head, she found herself now unfettered, and face-to-face with a shrinking Leviathan, whose eyes once again flourished with divine light. The Mist Dragon tilted his head inquisitively, but having completed his mistress' command, soared into the darkness above, disappearing from sight.

"Ry...Rydi...a...!" Leviathan gasped, and Rydia smiled weakly, a bead of mist sliding down her jaw.

"My lord? Do you…recognize me now?"

"…Rydia!" Leviathan pulled her into his arms, nuzzling his face into her hair as he nodded his head – not that she could see him, being smashed into his chest. "Oh, my sweet, cherished Rydia!"

"What did you do to wake him up!?" Asura cried, warding off the final throes of Leviathan's final incantation and rushing over to them, the others following closely behind. "The Mist Dragon didn't even attack."

"I didn't ask him to attack," Rydia said softly, managing to lift her head as Leviathan grasped her yet tighter. "I asked him to cover me in mist. I remembered what you said right before we came here…that I had been surrounded in a holy aura the first time we met. I thought that if I could not be seen…then perhaps I could be sensed, instead. If it had been enough to drive Leviathan berserk and capsize a ship to get to me, then I thought it might work now, too."

"…Damn, that's even better than anything Golbez might have come up with," Luca muttered, and Rydia's eyebrows shot up. She must have missed something, or she was still a bit out of it from having her oxygen cut off for so long.

"Please forgive me, Rydia," Leviathan sighed, finally pulling away so that she could get another full gulp of air. "So many eidolons forced into agony because I lacked the power to help them…" He gazed up at Asura apologetically. "My love included."

"It doesn't matter now, my lord…not now that you have returned!" Rydia smiled, and Asura shrugged.

"I'll need a few more pieces of jewelry to add to my collection as repayment. You'd best ransack some ships from one of the more richer countries upon our return."

"Er, maybe don't do that," Rydia laughed nervously. "If you want beautiful jewelry, it's probably easiest to just enter a store in your human form, and, you know…buy some. Less life-threatening for all involved, as well."

"Well, I couldn't have made it back without my family… Both you, Rydia, and my beloved Asura!" He gazed up at the sky for a moment, pressing his lips together. "You too, Kasumi…wherever you are right now."

"Thank the gods that's over," Ursula huffed. "So, are you going to tell us how to get out of here, or what? I want to see my Uncle Cecil!"

"Ursula!" Yang chided, but Leviathan chuckled, shaking his head.

"I can't say no to another beautiful face like that," he said, and Yang bared his teeth perhaps a little more intensely than he had intended. Ignoring him, Leviathan rolled over, idly drawing a magic circle near the ledge where Rydia had nearly met her maker. When his finger lifted away, the circle erupted into a starlit portal, identical to the one Ursula had first identified in the heart of the false Feymarch. Leviathan turned to the others, his smile now gone and his eyes in crinkled slits.

"We cannot leave our world victim to that girl's whims a moment longer. From now on, my powers shall be with you forevermore – I'll see to it that nothing _ever_ comes between us again."

"Thank you for everything…both of you," Rydia bowed her head, and in turn, Asura and Leviathan faded away in a swath of glimmering light, dancing yellow orbs releasing into the air like soap bubbles. Rydia felt the familiar warmth flood her body as their essences became one with hers once again, their covenant sealed.

Luca bounded over to the portal, wrinkling her nose as she paused to look it over.

"Yowza…something stinks."

"…What?" Rydia blinked, spinning around. Luca fanned her face and made a big production of plugging her nose.

"Ugh, girl, it's you! Half of your hair is burnt to a crisp!"

"What!?" Rydia gathered her hair into her hands and tossed it over her shoulder, the blood draining from her face when she saw that Luca was right. The length of Rydia's hair from her thighs to her middle-back was charred black, some hunks fused together thanks to the magma Leviathan had forced her into, and other layers already completely burned off, leaving uneven, jagged spills across her back. She gave her foot a stomp, silently mourning years and years of effort to grow her stubborn hair long enough so that her natural corkscrew curls were finally somewhat tamable.

"Here, hon," Cid said, reaching into his belt and retrieving a utility knife. "Best just take care of it now – who knows what we might run into next?"

Rydia took the knife from his hand, muttering something under her breath about killing Leviathan after all as she gathered her hair into a fist, extending the makeshift ponytail over her shoulder and biting her lip.

"Here goes nothing…"

With a heavy sigh and a violent slash, a blanket of black, dead hair fluttered into the waiting magma, one emerald curl going unnoticed as it sank into the portal and disappeared from sight.

* * *

 _The Tower of Babil_

Rubicante's statuesque, staggering form stepped forth from the dying light of the crystal, his opaque gaze cutting through Edge as an explosion of flames discharged behind him, giving him the appearance of a majestic phoenix spreading its wings. His lengthy, slender legs, normally impeccable in the grace in which they carried their master, were bowing as if he had been recently injured, swaying crookedly with each broken step. The cowl wrapped around his charred, leathery face was slashed to ribbons, revealing a blackened mouth with bloodied, split lips and missing teeth. The turban set upon his head, normally a crown of effervescent flame, was a dying collective of blue and purple flames that clung to the deformed keratin horns sprouting from his skull.

"Ergh…" the fiend growled, disoriented, as if he had just finally now noticed Edge among the chaos of the burning room. "I… I am Rubicante!"

"We're well-past introductions at this point," Edge sneered up at him, withdrawing Masamune and Murasame from the holster on his back and shifting into position. "You've been haunting me ever since this moon decided to pay us a visit…I want to know what this all means, once and for all. Surely you weren't just pining for the good ol' days, right?"

But Rubicante didn't seem to hear him – or if he did, he was pointedly ignoring every word. Instead, he threw open his cloak, unleashing a cyclone of fire that came rushing at Edge like a bat out of hell. Edge leapt out of the way, his feet skimming the spinning flames as he took advantage of the air current to give his jump more lift, somersaulting behind Rubicante and thrusting his blades into the twisted curve of his back.

"Gahhh…ahh!" Rubicante howled, swinging around wildly as his bloodied fingernails clawed over his shoulders. Edge clung to the embedded handles of his katanas for dear life, having not expected Rubicante to have such fight in him after being dually impaled. As Rubicante seized and staggered about, Edge swung his legs forward, planting his boots into Rubicante's backside and using his body as leverage to execute a backflip and simultaneously withdraw the katanas – he didn't want Rubicante to be able to reach back and get his hands on one. Twin streams of blood erupted from the gouges left by the blades, sending Rubicante into another rage as he spun to face Edge, the hateful scowl on his face clashing with dead, lifeless eyes. "What…are you doing!?"

"What…am _I_ doing?" Edge blinked, lowering the katanas slightly. "What's wrong with you?"

"Ngh…nooooo!" Rubicante howled, digging his claws into his turban as another gathering of infernos assembled in the corners of the crystal chamber, churning their way toward the crystal daises where Rubicante and Edge were sparring. Edge twisted around despondently, cursing under his breath when he realized there would be no easy escape this time around. He tried firing off a Flood ninjitsu technique, thinking that if he managed to divert Rubicante's attention that he would not be able to hold sway over his inferno spell – but even in the throes of his convulsions, Rubicante managed to drape his cloak over his body, the waves of water absorbing harmlessly into the mystic fibers of the garment and infusing Rubicante with a fresh surge of energy. Edge cursed much louder now, half-hoping that at least Rubicante would give him one of his snide, hoity-toity lectures about honor and how men should conduct themselves in battle – but he was met only with the increasing roar of the oncoming flames.

 _This is insane,_ Edge thought, spying a slender pilaster to his left that he hoped he could scale to temporarily evade the rampaging magic that was about to eat him alive. He dashed across the chamber, taking a running leap up the side of the wall and throwing himself to the closest ledge he could grab, barely only a few inches in width for him to grip, and proceeded to drag his way up. He didn't dare look down to check on Rubicante, even though he could hear the autarch's shrieks as easily as if he were right beside him – each one sent a shiver up his spine and made his palms break out in a fresh round of perspiration on the already slippery glass.

 _Why is Rubicante here if he's not going to put any effort into fighting me? The scorched automaton bodies in the other room, the interference in the portal that was supposed to teleport us out…you're sending me mixed signals here, Rube – I don't like it!_

Edge winced as the fire from an encroaching twister licked at the back of his legs, shooting pain running up his nerve endings. _Faster…I have get higher, or else…!_

It was at that moment that Rubicante lifted his head from his fit, spotting Edge attempting to flee his spell like the cowardly insect he was. The confusing rage that filled his cells was so immense that he nearly spontaneously combusted right then and there – the gray haze that permeated his sight gave way to carmine salience, and before he could comprehend what he was doing, extended a claw toward Edge and silently cast a Stop spell.

The spell smashed effortlessly into Edge's backside, the petrifying chill of hundreds of crackling electrons taking hold of his limbs as the dizzying chaos surrounding him suddenly seemed to speed up one hundred-fold. It was only when his fingers refused to obey his brain's command to curl over the newest ledge he had reached that he realized what had happened – the world around him wasn't hastening – _he_ was coming to a grinding halt.

"Sh…!" He could not complete his attempt at vulgarity before his mouth suspended mid-sentence, his eyes frozen in wide-open shock as his body fell backward from the wall and directly into the wind tunnel generated by one of the Inferno spells. The blast of turbulent firestorm filled his ears as he felt the familiar sensation of boiling blood just beneath the surface of his flesh – this was the same trap he had fallen into at Eblan with Rydia when Rubicante had invaded his dream-state. In seconds, his stamina would be absorbed by the storm, leaving him a spent husk. Next, the maelstrom would then turn that same energy it had drained against him, transforming his body into a sacrificial pyre at the foot of Rubicante's altar.

 _It was a trap,_ Edge conceded, his vision a blur of bleeding reds and oranges as he felt himself sinking deeper into the eye of the storm. Smoke and ash had begun to fill his stalled lungs, and he could feel the back of his eyes tearing, desperate to find any kind of relief in the searing heat – but his body refused to yield to time and let the tears flow. _The real Rubicante would never play so dirty…this is that witch's doing, somehow. My parents warned me about what this moon would show me…and still, I walked right into that frightful girl's clutches._

 _But…I just wanted to protect all of you…_

 _From this wretched moon…from enemies cast across the universe…from a broken future…_

 _…Maybe from myself, too…_

Out of the corner of his eye as he was spun adrift in the storm, Edge saw a familiar scintillating pillar erupt over one of the daises, the same crystalline light that had filled the room when his parents' crystals had emerged – except this time, instead of a pulsating twilight, it was stained a rich viridian that spilled over the dais like the promise of springtime. A portal burst open in the ceiling above, a strange, silk-like object floating from the opening and drifting over the empty dais. As he dizzily spun around, his vision failing him further with each revolution, Edge thought that perhaps it was some sort of feather…or maybe a ribbon?

Did that mean someone else was here? Even so…Edge knew it was too late for him now. He closed his eyes, reveling in light's gentle embrace over his withering flesh.

 _That light…It may be one the most beautiful things I've ever seen. I wish I could show you, Rydia…whenever I see green…I see a vision of life. I see_ _ **you**_ _. Did I ever tell you that?_

 _Maybe I should have before…before everything went so wrong._

As the last trace of oxygen left Edge's lips, the long-awaited curtain of darkness finally began to descend when a massive explosion suddenly rocked his body, jolting all of his senses back to life as a rush of emerald gales blew away Rubicante's storm and wrapped around Edge, carrying him to the shattered dais where the detonation had gone off and gently depositing him into a mix of shattered marble and crystal dust. Immediately keeling over and releasing a series of painful, but also oh-so-wonderful coughs, Edge greedily drank in gulps of clean air and marveled at the sensation of having control over his own body once more as he flexed his fingers against the debris beneath. His cloak and his cowl had been nearly burned all the way through, leaving only tatters, but he was otherwise in fair condition – the bruises and burns he had acquired were nothing a little Curaja couldn't fix – if he ever saw Rosa or Porom again, that was.

Rubicante was staring at him from the base of the crumbled dais, his mouth a bloodied slash as he sank to his knees and clutched at his head, releasing yet another devastating wail. Sinking into the floor, he lifted his chin with such an effort that one would think his head weighed a thousand pounds, his eyes desperately searching Edge's as the gray mist within mixed with the brilliant verdant that had spilled forth from the dais and was burned away to reveal the malachite gaze that Edge knew was the autarch's _true_ visage. He would never forget for the rest of his life – or even in death – the way those eyes had pierced him through and through the night he had first encountered Rubicante in the Cave of Eblan.

 _So long ago, when my rage blinded me…it was my friends that were able to bring the light back to my eyes…Cecil…Rydia…Rosa… (Even you, Kain…you traitorous bastard…)_

 _And now…?_

Rubicante clawed at the floor as he spat his next words, his back hunching dangerously. "Strike me down… _Now_!"

Edge fell back, startled, wondering if part of his brain had ended up getting fried after all. "What are you…!?"

"HURRY!" he hissed, letting out another howl as he dug his fingers into his skull. "I can't…I can't keep control much longer…!"

 _This…this is the real Rubicante,_ Edge frowned, his body rising on its own like clockwork as he drifted forward, deviating from his objective only momentarily to swoop down and retrieve Masamune from the floor, where it had been miraculously deposited, unharmed, by the inferno. When he reached Rubicante's trembling form, he lifted the blade to his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he aimed the tip of the katana for Rubicante's heart.

"Yes... That's right..." the fiend gurgled, his eyes alit with brilliance even as his body contorted with such a ferocity that it looked as if there was a demon clawing at him from the inside, working to tear his flesh asunder so that it could finally find release. Edge faltered, the blade slipping in his hands as he swallowed what felt like a mouthful of sand.

 _Rubicante… You look as if you're...in agony?_

But before Edge could change his mind, he forced himself to lunge forward, cleanly driving the blade through Rubicante's chest and pulling back in one quick motion, the blade dripping with putrid black blood as the fresh wound bubbled and spilled the fiend's essence in an ebony waterfall across his scarred abdomen. Rubicante glanced down at the fatal blow with a small smile on his face, gingerly running his fingertips over the spill with quiet delight.

"Heh… So, you really did find it… Your true strength… I knew the moment I saw that light that you had at last found your way...even in my addled state."

"My friends are my light," Edge said softly. "Crystals can be fabricated, and stars will burn out…but the light of my friends will live on in my heart long beyond the day I die."

Rubicante chuckled, a spray of blood escaping his lips. "Yes…and that is why you must stop it... Stop this moon...with all your might!"

Edge lowered his blade, turning his back just as Rubicante collapsed to the floor in a heap, his flesh dissolving into crystal dust that drifted into the air and faded away. _The archfiends… They're all as much a part of the world as we are – what kind of terror are we facing that would upend their souls from hell just to force us to fight once more?_

Edge shook his head slightly at the absurdity his life had become in such a short time, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

 _I hate to say it…but if you had been fighting as your true self…you would_ _ **still**_ _be out of my league, Rubicante! I'll accept this victory for what it was...for now._

He heard the gentle swish of silk rustle past his ears, and suddenly felt the weight of something powerfully warm drape over his shoulders like molten steel pouring into a mold. Peering over his shoulder and spinning in a semi-circle, he saw that Rubicante's massive cloak of flame had been swathed over him, the tattered ends dragging across the floor from which Rubicante's body had completely disappeared and had been replaced by another portal – this one much more accessible than the one hanging suspended above the now-destroyed dais. Blinking in confusion, Edge yanked on a portion of the fabric and brought it closer to inspect it. He was awed at the sight of the cloak up close – woven alongside the silk were flecks of crystalline fibers that he could only imagine were what was responsible for the "magic" of Rubicante's cape being able to absorb any element known to man. A crystal brooch was sewn into the front folds of the collar to fasten it shut, shining with all the luminosity of the Crystal of Fire formerly of Damcyan.

 _You too, were once filled with dreams for our planet…probably nothing that you or I would ever see eye-to-eye on, but…there must have something that drove you, a spirit as ancient as our world itself, to join Golbez's cause once upon a time. Whatever your hopes may have been, then…I can at least do you the honor of granting your final wish. I will stop this moon…no matter what it takes…and I will destroy_ _ **anyone**_ _that gets in my way!_

He sheathed Masamune, deciding that it would be wise to also find Murasame before he went back to fetch the others. After a few minutes of searching the empty chamber, he realized that his other sword had been dropped along with him back on the crumbled dais when he saw the familiar leather-wrapped hilt sticking out of a pile of debris. As he scaled the mess, he saw a flash of very familiar green draped over a slab of unblemished white marble, realizing it was the mysterious treasure that had drifted from what Edge was beginning to think of as the "defective" portal from above. Kneeling down to take a closer look, he felt the blood rush to his cheeks as another flashback to Eblan Castle flooded his mind. It was when he had awoken from the nightmare in which Rubicante had so generously invaded, expecting to be burnt to a crisp and half-mauled by Ifrit. But instead, he had awoken to restored health and the scent of hyacinths, a spill of glossy emerald waves blanketing his chest as Rydia slept peacefully by his side.

"Rydia…" he whispered out loud, gingerly lifting the emerald curl and holding it before him in the light. Other than being rather bluntly sliced across one end, there seemed to be nothing else suspicious about the tress – it was still perfumed with the scent of hyacinth, with perhaps a mixture of fresh rain – not that he understood how that could be possible on a dead moon like this.

 _It was you…you saved me from myself…yet again. That must mean you're somewhere close…right?_ He gazed up at the portal above, blinking in surprise as it suddenly collapsed in on itself as if to say "Nice try!", the chamber ceiling going back to being absolutely nothing of any use to anyone. Edge couldn't help but chuckle and gave a shrug.

 _You probably got tired of waiting for me, huh? Guess I'm going to have to add another apology to the list when we finally see each other again…_

He smiled to himself, tucking the lock of hair in the fastener of the cloak and rising to his feet.

 _But…this time around, it's not just going to be apologies. I'm not gonna wait another seventeen years to say what needs to be said._

 _So please…just wait for me a little longer…I'll be there soon._

* * *

Harley grimaced as another painful rock stabbed through the sole of her boot, the sound of crunching pausing along with her as she lifted her leg to yank at the offending gravel and toss it. It sailed over the ledge that was no more than five feet away, tumbling into a spill of twisted space that was a blend of midnight and violet, punctuated with piercing blue light of distant stars. She held still, her hand clasped around her ankle as she waited to hear to hear the rock reach its final resting place – but after a few moments, she realized that was never going to happen, and set her foot down on the dirt-streaked crystal walkway with an involuntary shiver.

She still hadn't been brave enough to bring herself to actually _look_ over the ledges that seemed to surround them no matter how far they journeyed – their path, so far had been straight and to the point, little room for deviation unless one felt like a bit of skydiving. She supposed now that if she did dare to take a peek over a ledge, she wouldn't actually _see_ anything but the bottomless depths of space, anyway.

 _No big deal._

Behind her, Edward was kneeling next to a massive red fern that was blooming out of a cluster of chipped crystals and a crumbling pillar, gingerly running his fingers over its leaves and muttering to himself. She could just barely hear a snatch of his observations as he stood back up, the fern springing back into place.

"…How could something like this be growing here?"

Harley didn't reply. She knew enough from her voracious studies that like most other plants, ferns survived on photosynthesis, and unlike most other plants, they were hundreds of millions of years old – and the only land plant to have two forms during the reproductive stage. No facts that were exactly helpful to them here, although she did consider herself quite the riot at parties.

After they had teleported out of the Tower of Zot, they had been dropped this cold, nearly lightless wasteland that neither of them recognized from any place they had ever been before. At first, both Harley and Edward had thought they had entered some type of underground trail – they could feel dirt and rocks grinding beneath their feet as they wandered, and the air was dry, and stale – like it had been sealed away from the rest of the world for the gods knew how long. But the more their eyes got used to the lack of light, the more that was slowly revealed to them about their new locale: As alone as they thought they were, they were actually surrounded by hundreds of plants – many petrified and encased in greenish-gray calcium, some still managing to survive against all odds, like the ferns, and the remainder smashed and trampled in the dust-ridden pathway they had stumbled upon that appeared to only go in one direction – due south. Some of the plant life was so ancient that it had become embedded in the crystalline road itself – even after crawling on her hands and knees to inspect it, Harley couldn't tell if the crystal had somehow grown over the greenery on the path, or if it had always been there and some sort of ungodly pressure had crushed them together. Considering they were surrounded by the swells of what appeared to be outer space itself, Harley decided it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that a powerful distortion could have warped a place like this in the blink of an eye.

"It's almost like a human-sized open terrarium," Harley mused. "I feel like a giant hand could find its way inside here any moment and pluck one of us off the ground."

"That's one of your more disturbing observations, I must say," Edward frowned. "But…it does seem like people once lived here, doesn't it? The scattered piles of rubble could have been houses."

"Mmmm-hmmm," Harley nodded, pressing her fingers to her chin. "Would they have evolved to no longer need the sun or water? A fascinating concept, indeed…"

Edward turned away, lowering his gaze as he lifted a sprig of whisperweed from his vest. The entire time they had been here, it had not gone off once – perhaps it had been too much to hope that they would have been reunited with Palom, Porom and Leonora, but at least when they had been in the separate towers, they had still been able to speak. Now, he had no idea if the silence on the other line meant that something terrible had happened to them on Mount Ordeals, or if he and Harley had been transported so far away that they were now utterly beyond _anyone's_ reach.

Both options were horrifying concepts – though Edward decided that if this were the place where he was to die, he could at least be grateful that it would be Harley, of all the people in the world, that would be with him until the very end. _Silver linings, and all that…_

They continued onward, reaching a short flight of stairs that made a loud "clang" as they stepped down – it was so unsettling compared to the relative silence that accompanied their trek through soil and stone that it made both of them nearly leap out of their skin.

"This sounds like steel!" Harley gasped, stomping her foot down once more for good measure and sending another loud clanking noise rippling throughout the dead air. Edward was about to politely ask her to perhaps not be so vigorous with her noisemaking when another loud crash rang out – and a blink-and-you'd-miss-it flash of light briefly illuminated the plane, reminding Edward of an abandoned cemetery on a stormy night. Harley and Edward turned to face each other, their eyes reflecting each other's terror, and they wordlessly fled down the remainder of the stairs, hurrying toward another decaying pillar that was big enough to hide the two of them if they kept close. Pressing their backs to one another, Harley took the left lookout, while Edward took the right, both hardly daring to breathe. Harley silently prayed that if an enemy encroached that it might not approach her side – she could barely see a thing without her glasses, which were now crushed into a twist of metal stashed away in her pocket thanks to Barbariccia.

 _Crick. Crick. Crunch…_

 _Oh gods!_ Harley gulped, pressing harder against Edward as she tried to suck in her gut and make herself as skinny as possible behind the column. She heard the breath catch in his throat behind her, and a few moments later, felt his fingers snake through her own. His palms were damp with sweat that she could feel even through her gloves, although she didn't know if the unsettling shaking she could also feel was coming from him or her.

 _CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!_

They were on the stairs, now – definitely more than one of them, by the sounds of it, and tromping around with the strength that she could only imagine a large monster carried. Harley squeezed her eyes shut, no longer able to bear the strain of trying to make out whatever was coming after them in the darkness with her diminished vision. If the enemy approached on her side, they would be as good as dead anyway – she foolishly realized that Barbariccia's whip was still tucked away inside her jacket on the side against the pillar – she'd never be able to reach it in time.

As the footsteps edged closer to their hiding place, Edward slid his hand toward his belt, quietly unfastening the knife held within and pressing it to his hip. His lack of skill and peripheral disadvantage might not be enough to slay any of their would-be attackers, but he figured at the very least that he could provide a middling enough distraction for Harley to run for it. The portal that had deposited them in this awful place had disappeared as soon as they had stepped away, but perhaps there was another one waiting for them at the end of the path that would take her far away enough to manage an escape.

He felt the shadow fall over him before he saw it, drowning him in yet more darkness when the meager starlight lazing in the skies above was completely snuffed out. He felt his body and his mental faculties shift into auto-pilot as he lifted his hand with the knife, a strangled cry for Harley to run escaping his throat before he brought the blade down on their assailant.


	36. Act Thirty-Six: The Maenads' Tale

Act Thirty-Six: The Maenads' Tale | The Mission

Yang paused, his stare locked on Rydia and Ursula's retreating forms as Ursula turned to give one last wave before the two of them disappeared through a pillar of light, a brief flash illuminating the black starscape above. With Cid and Luca having gone on ahead into a different portal, that left only Yang to hold down the fort – at least, that had been the original plan, until he had picked up on the admittedly subtle clues that he had become the focus of somebody's tail.

He had purposely waited until everyone was gone to initiate a confrontation – if it was the enemy, he wanted Urusla and the others out of harm's way. The chamber they had warped to from the Feymarch had reminded Yang of a dilapidated, long-neglected version of the Tower of Babil – the glass walls that normally would be illuminated with hundreds of pulsing blue lights were blackened with dust and soot, like a fire had ignited inside and burnt every circuit to a crisp. The floors were riddled with gouges, scratches, and gaping potholes, and in the case of the potholes, there seemed to be no limit to their depth – Yang could only see continual darkness when he peered into each one that matched the heavens above. The ceiling of the twisting chamber – if there had ever been one – was completely removed, blanketing them in the velvet black of space.

He had no way of knowing for sure, but Yang had a feeling that a terrible battle had once taken place here – were it not so dark, he had the suspicion he would also be able to make out blood spill in the crevices of the sullied glass… There was also the heavyhearted malaise that accompanied the aura of the chamber that he simply could not shake off – the caustic scent of war and strife soaked the air, shook him to his core every time he took a breath.

Also, like the Tower of Babil, the chamber quickly splintered into multiple trailing hallways, the exploration of a few revealing yet more portals situated at dead ends that were similar to the one Leviathan had opened for them in the Feymarch. It had been Rydia's idea to split up to cover more ground – Yang did not like it, but he was in the minority – everyone else seemed to appreciate the possibility of getting out of such a creepy place faster by working together and had started discussing how they should make their approach before he could interject with an objection.

And that had been when he had sensed the presence of another outside their party of five – and had hurriedly volunteered to be the one to remain behind and finish exploring the chamber they were in now. If he could distract the enemy long enough for the others to escape, he would consider that a middling success.

Turning a corner, Yang casually pressed himself against one of the filth-caked walls, pretending he was taking a breather. As he did so, he swore he saw the slight jump of a shadow only a few feet behind him, and turned away, not wanting it to seem like he had a clue anyone was there. Closing his eyes, he tried to quiet his mind, like he would do when he meditated – focusing only on the movement of air flowing in and out of his lungs as he drilled in on the little disturbances that tore through the otherwise still air like bullets shot from a gun. Slowly, a vision took form in his mind of the uninvited guest, and Yang's eyes suddenly snapped open, his head tilting toward the emptiness above as he spoke with a bemused warmth.

"...Edge, is it?"

"Heh. Typical Yang!"

The shadow he had spied around the corner suddenly dropped a few feet away from him, sweeping into a mock bow. Edge then stood up, throwing behind him a magnificent scarlet cloak that Yang had not remembered him leaving the ship with – nevertheless, Yang admired the way it fell from Edge's slender shoulders like a waterfall of flame – he wasn't much for fashion, but it definitely seemed like a piece that was created solely to be worn by a monarch who courted chaos as frequently as he did pretty women. Edge tilted his head, grinning. "Pondering something?"

It did not take much effort for Yang to resist grinning back – happy as he was to see that Edge was alive, he was still very much aware of the potential terror that awaited them and was already starting to worry about Ursula. "There is much on my mind, yes. We still have yet to find a way to stop the moon's inexorable advance. And what's more..."

"Cecil's not showing signs of improvement either," Edge interrupted, and Yang nodded.

"Ursula spoke with Ceodore and confirmed as much. He's here, somewhere – with Rosa, Kain and Golbez, who is apparently acting as Cecil's guardian."

"That's smart," Edge said dryly, but Yang did not engage with his sarcasm. As troubling as he had found Ursula's report as well, he could not let himself immediately jump to the most negative conclusion possible – to do so would write off any hope he had of Cecil recovering.

"But I still believe in him," Yang said softly. "I know Cecil will find himself again!"

"Yeah," Edge replied. "I'm sure everyone here would agree with that – they're all here, aren't they? I had a suspicion when I spotted you wandering about that the Lunar Whale may be empty now…"

"Well, it's kind of your fault," Yang raised an eyebrow. "When you never came back, people got worried."

" _People_ did?" Edge smirked. "Anyone in particular?"

"No," Yang said quickly, and Edge's face fell. Yang crossed his arms and turned away, trying to hide a burgeoning smile in the shadows. It had been a while since he had spent any quality time with Edge, but it had seemed that not much had really changed in terms of Edge's fixation on a certain summoner. Yang wasn't sure if that was terribly romantic, or terribly pathetic, after all this time. "Is anyone else with you…?"

"My…uh…guard, or whatever you prefer to call them, sort of disobeyed my orders and stowed away on the ship," Edge shrugged. "But it's all good – we've come to a compromise. Wave 'hi', guys."

"Hello, King Yang!" Tsukinowa's voice exclaimed from a darkened corner, and the normally unflappable Yang jumped in surprise, hesitatingly raising a hand in reply even though he couldn't actually see the boy.

 _I must be getting rusty if I could not sense all five of them…goodness._

"I have to admit…I had a similar idea about asking Ursula to stay behind, although I'm not foolish enough to believe that she would have gone for it. I'm fearful for Ceodore too…although it would seem he has grown to be a fine young man, hasn't he? Cecil would be proud if he could see him now…"

"Yeah, he's grown up quite a bit," Edge smiled. "Your daughter's nothing to sniff at either."

"Oh, not just yet," Yang flushed. "There is still a great deal of training ahead for her. She has only just been accepted as my student. She has a long road to travel."

Edge shrugged – he didn't speak the language of humility. "Bah. With her leading the way, I'd say Fabul's going to be prosperous for many years to come."

"Perhaps..." Yang shook his head, sighing. "But now is not the time to worry about Fabul. We must find a way to save the whole world…"

"True, true. Can't say I've quite figured out how to do that yet, though."

Yang stared down at the ground, weighing his next words carefully as to not come off as disrespectful. "Edge...I may sound like a hypocrite for asking this…but what do you intend to do with your own kingdom? You are the lord of Eblan. It would be a disaster if you passed away without an heir..."

Edge forced a laugh that echoed maddeningly in the empty corridor, wagging his finger. "Hold it right there. You're starting to sound a little too much like Seneschal for my liking. Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not old enough to be thinking about the pitter-patter of little feet yet."

Yang frowned. He realized he was more advanced in age than Edge – but not he was THAT much older – and the two of them had become the rulers of their respective kingdoms at nearly the same time. "You don't think so? No subject could be completely happy with a king who does not think of the future – and even you won't be around for forever, my friend. What do you spend your days thinking about, if not fortifying the future of Eblan?"

Edge laughed again, much quieter this time. Yang's words had sunk into him like a punch to the gut, and he wasn't sure if he could utter the painful truth of it all out loud. _I used to think about it every day, until I no longer had a reason to. You don't dream of a future when you live in the past – something I'm trying to remedy now._

 _But will I even have a future after this is all over? Is the fact that I can't picture it means that I'm doomed to never come home?_

But instead of pouring his guts out, he merely shrugged. "Maybe you have a point..."

But Yang could see the despair that had manifested in Edge's stony eyes, and suddenly felt terrible for even bringing any of it up – as a fellow monarch, he had been curious about what Edge might say, knowing they had left their kingdoms in similar straits – but he had let himself be fooled by the ninja's devil-may-care persona into thinking that like most anything else, Edge wouldn't have taken the inquiry seriously – not like Cecil or Edward might have.

 _I suppose that even our Edge has grown up, too…how easy it is for me to forget that war can change a man in the most subtle of ways – even just below the surface._

Shifting uncomfortably against the wall, Yang turned back to Edge, his face softening. He noticed now that Edge was turning a small vial over and over in his fingers, a sheen of opalescence streaked over the glass as the powder within gently shifted up and down with each flick of Edge's hand. Yang welcomed the change of subject and nodded toward the vial.

"What's that you have there?"

"Hmm, this?" Edge tossed the vial in the air and extended his hand to catch it. "A little present I got from Izayoi. Eblanese smelling salts..."

* * *

"...Cid...?"

Luca's voice quivered as she spied her mentor slumped against a wall, his head tucked to his chin and his eyes clenched shut beneath his goggles. Although she hadn't been gone long, it had been a blaring crash that had made her rush back from the chamber she had been exploring. Panic rose in her throat as she slowly approached Cid from the perimeter of the hall, her eyes darting to the cloud of settling dust that was hanging in the air a few feet away over a pile of rubble. Her gaze slid upward, and she could see that part of the metallic ceiling had caved in. Steeling herself, she brushed her fingers over the handle of her tomahawk and made her approach.

Suddenly, an upside-down head popped through the hole in the ceiling, causing Luca to nearly scream with fright. It was that little ninja boy from the Eblan Four – Tsukinowa – a stupid grin on his face that reminded her so much of Edge that she wanted to simultaneously slap him and kiss him.

 _Ugh, maybe I do have bad taste in men. But why are the naughtiest ones always the most charming?_

"Tsuki!" Luca gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Tsuki?" he chortled. "That's too cute a nickname for one of the most elite ninjas of the realm." He totally glossed over the trifling detail that he wasn't supposed to be anywhere near this place – Luca had heard Edge telling off the Eblan Four on the bridge of the Lunar Whale before forcing them to get off.

"It means "moon", right?" Luca shrugged. "Seems appropriate, given where we are."

"Those in my inner circle call me "Lapin"," Tsukinowa offered. "It means rabbit."

"How is that not cute!?" Luca exclaimed, and suddenly a snort ripped through the room, reminding her that now was not the time to flirt with adorable boys. She turned to Cid, who had rolled over on his side, his beard fluttering as his lips smacked. "Wait…he's just asleep?"

"Yeah," Tsukinowa said. "I've been watching him nap. Master Edge was chatting with King Yang and I was getting a little bored pretending not to eavesdrop, so I found a way to sneak into some ductwork in the ceiling. But it must be ancient – this is what happened when I stayed in one spot too long." He nodded toward the rubble on the floor, and Luca frowned.

"Ductwork? That would imply…" She shook her head, sighing. Her thoughts were racing a mile a minute. "Never mind. You said Edge is with Yang? And he knows you're here?"

"Yeah, although the four of us got a solid telling off first," Tsukinowa flushed. "Anyway, you're not going to find anything down here – I've combed this place up and down from above."

"Great," Luca smirked, any urges to further investigate already dissipating anyway thanks to the fireworks she was anticipating would explode when Rydia and Edge were in the same room once again. "Let me just wake the old man up and I'll be right behind you."

"I'll see you soon," Tsukinowa winked, disappearing back into the darkness as silently as he had arrived. Luca kneeled down next to Cid and gave him a rough shake.

"Master Cid!"

Another snort jolted out of Cid's nose, and his eyes snapped open. "Wh-wha? Huh? We under attack?"

"It's me, Master," Luca rolled her eyes, glancing at the collapsed ceiling. _How had he possibly slept through that racket!?_ "If we were under attack, you'd never know it!"

"Oh...oh! Luca!" Cid laughed. "Don't sneak up on me like that! You'll give a guy a heart attack."

Luca pressed her lips together. "I'm impressed you can sleep so soundly in a place like this. You don't think it's creepy?"

"You kiddin' me!? I've slept in far worse – the Baron dungeons, for starters. I have to rest up while I can, y'know! We've got some serious work to do."

"Heh heh!" Luca giggled. "Wise words from your decades of battlefield experience, I suppose."

"You got that right... Hey! What do you mean, "decades"!?"

Luca shook her head. "Anyway, Master... I was thinking about this enemy we face. These girls…and anyone else that might be supporting them. Do you think we have what it takes to defeat them? I mean, look at this moon..."

Cid idly tapped his fingers on his robust belly. "What d'you mean?"

Luca stood up, crossing her arms as she took another long look around the room. "Doesn't it strike you that this moon almost seems like it was created by somebody? It... it's almost like a gigantic craft, of sorts. The smell of metal is everywhere, and we were being forced to see illusions by what I can only surmise is a combination of technology and magic – and the technology part was already starting to break down near the end of our journey in the Feymarch. There's ductwork in the ceilings as well – which would mean air is being purposely circulated in and out of this place."

The smile drained from Cid's face, and he nodded, sliding his goggles up to his forehead. "Glad to see you noticed – I was wondering when you might say something. But I would have expected no less from you."

Luca's cheeks burned slightly at the compliment – but there were still more worries plaguing her mind. "Perhaps Cecil and the others can deal with this foe...but can I? Can either of us, for that matter?" She shook her head. "We're just a pair of engineers following the people we love. When Rydia was in danger…I felt as if there was nothing I could do. In the end, I could only watch her suffer…"

Cid stood up, gently resting his hand on Luca's shoulder. "You couldn't have it more wrong. You need to believe in yourself, Luca – believe in yourself the same way you do when you're building a ship or programming your dolls. This is _your_ generation's time now, you realize."

"Master..."

"Your knowledge and skill go way beyond anything I could ever achieve, Luca. You know, Cecil and his lot have been a great aid to us all, but then I see you…and Ceodore…and even little Mid. At your age, you three still have infinite potential waiting ahead for you! A woman like you is going to change the world someday – and I'm not even just talking about what you're doing here right now. I want to be around to see that – so _that's_ why I'm here, supporting you, and Ceodore, and everyone else. I can't do something as amazing as summon eidolons…hell, I don't even have a single drop of magical blood in my body. But if even just my being here helps Cecil realize that he has friends waiting for him to wake up, then that's good enough for me. I know Rydia is grateful you are here too – you put her heart at ease and help her remember what it is she is fighting for when her light is at its dimmest."

Luca blushed deeper, pressing her hand to her mouth as she nodded. "Y-yes, sir!" Cid gave her a toothy grin, wagging his finger.

"But _don't_ let all of that go to your head! If you think I'm going to retire to some country cottage with an apprentice like you running around, forget it! I've still got the burden of making sure you focus all that potential properly – you are still just a kid, after all."

"A kid!?" Luca shoved Cid away, half-smiling. "Maybe compared to a stubborn old man like you. If I weren't around, would you even know how to work on _new_ technology like Calca and Brina? You should be grateful I can teach you more refined engineering techniques that don't involve bashing things with a hammer!"

Cid shoved her back, snorting. "Since when did I say you could tell me how to work on machinery? Eh, Luca!?"

Another shove – this one slightly less gentle. "Well, I've been doing it for a while now if you haven't noticed!"

Cid snapped his goggles back over his eyes, gritting his teeth. "Pah! I hope you're ready to put your money where your mouth is when it comes to your engineer's exam!"

"…What?" Luca blinked, lowering her raised palms. "…What do you mean…?"

"I mean, if you're giving me so much sass, then it must mean you're ready to prove yourself, right?" Cid smirked. "So as soon as we get home, you'd best be ready to take it. You didn't think I'd just hand you a license, right?"

"N-No…" Luca gasped, a happy laugh leaping out of her throat. "I just…you never mentioned me being ready before…"

"Maybe I've made you wait long enough," Cid shrugged. "Or maybe not. Will you be there?"

"Yes, of course!" Luca cried. "I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

* * *

A stifling grip took hold of Edward's blade, the bard's eyes widening with horror as he felt the knife get effortlessly ripped from his hand and watched it clatter to the floor, the blade warped and bent beyond recognition. He felt the hot rush of his assailant's breath smack him in the face as his hand was shoved away, a familiar growl vibrating in the air.

"I've really had quite enough of being stabbed today – I hope you understand." A flash of violet cut through the darkness, and a gentle glow suddenly washed over them, revealing a familiar gleam of silver hair plastered against a sash of black.

"…Golbez?" Edward choked, and he felt Harley jump behind him, her voice squeaking.

"And Prince Ceodore!"

"Harley! Edward!" Another familiar voice called out, and Edward saw Rosa's head pop up behind Golbez's shoulder. Ceodore circled around Harley to face the two of them, his sword cast aloft revealed to be the source of the light – the crystalline blade was pulsing with threads of holy magic, shards of glittering adamantite reflecting in the prince's eyes.

"You're all OK…" Edward sighed happily, collapsing against the pillar and shaking his head. "I'm so sorry…for a moment, I thought you were the enemy." He eyed his now-destroyed knife and glanced up at Golbez warily. "…Wait. What did you mean by your comment before?"

"It's irrelevant now," Golbez glowered. "Just don't let it happen again."

"Certainly," Edward muttered. Harley spun around to face Ceodore, who smiled at her shyly – he was starting to get used to Golbez's blunt brand of discourse, and part of him even thought it was a little funny – but something about being around Harley always made him want to stand up straighter, make sure his hair was combed properly, and slap a serious look on his face. He idly wondered if she and Captain Biggs would have gotten on well.

"Where is Kain?" Harley asked. "Did he stay behind on the Lunar Whale with Cecil?"

"I'm right here," Kain's voice rang out, and there came another set of footsteps banging down the stairs. Ceodore pointed his sword toward the sound, revealing Kain's statuesque form approaching them like a swan gliding through water. And walking beside him, his eyes luminous and his face glowing with color…

"Cecil!" Edward cried, and Cecil broke into a smile, raising a hand as his gaze briefly flickered.

"Wonderful to see you again, Edward and Harley. I apologize that our last meeting was not as pleasant…although I guess you can't really say the same for this one, either."

"No, this is still preferable," Edward laughed, grabbing hold of Cecil's hand and pulling him into a one-armed hug. Cecil beat his fist against Edward's back, and Harley folded her hands together, tilting her head.

"You have memories of our time together, King Cecil?"

"Fragmented, but yes," Cecil replied, pulling away from Edward and shaking his head. "Enough to know that I didn't treat either of you with the respect you deserved – for which I don't even know how to begin to apologize. And despite my cruelty, you still came to my rescue – Ceodore has told me everything that happened in Damcyan when he found you, Edward."

"There is no need for apologies," Harley said, her small smile all the assurance Cecil needed that she was speaking beyond diplomatics. "It's a relief to see that you are restored back to your natural self."

"And what luck it was to find you two!" Rosa exclaimed. "Are the twins and Leonora somewhere nearby? You five came here together, right?"

Harley and Edward took turns explaining what had happened to them in the duration of their journey, including the moment they were separated from the mages and the ensuring battle with Barbariccia afterward.

"The last we heard, they were on Mount Ordeals – or at least, a replica of such," Edward said. "We've heard nothing from them since."

"A replica?" Kain crossed his arms. "Does that mean that none of the places we visited were real, either?"

"I suspected as much when we were in the Lunar Core," Golbez frowned. "I could feel none of the spirits of the sleeping Lunarians during my walkabout – none of them answered my prayers, either. At first, I thought it was because they were closing themselves off to my voice, but…"

"…No, it wasn't just you," Ceodore said quickly. "I was trying to speak with them too – and failed."

"But this chamber feels different," Cecil shook his head. "None of us have ever been in a place like this before, right? And there have been no more crystals or revived enemies…"

"Perhaps we have reached the true core of this moon," Harley surmised. "And our enemy has no more illusions left to show us…"

"The mysterious girl seemed surprised that we made it this far. If we've been transported here, then surely the others will be close behind," Rosa said. "We should stick together and keep moving."

"I second that," Edward nodded. "The larger our party, the harder it will be for our enemy to get the drop on us."

Ceodore took point with his makeshift torch as they began to make their way south, Cecil and Rosa slipping behind him. Harley and Edward sandwiched themselves in the middle of their troupe, by doing so both silently admitting that they would not be the best options to protect the rear in the event of a surprise attack. Kain and Golbez strayed a few feet behind, awkwardly avoiding each other's gazes as their footsteps echoed exasperatingly in the otherwise abandoned chamber. After a few minutes of agonizing silence – not even Harley and Edward were in the mood to talk to each other – Kain glanced at Golbez again. This time, out of the corner of his eye, he spied Golbez glaring at him – or that might have just been his normal resting stare – he had no way of knowing for sure. He slowed his stride just enough so that he fell another few paces behind and noticed that Golbez automatically adjusted to match him.

 _What the hell? Is he trying to make sure I'm not the one watching_ _ **him**_ _?_

Kain felt the hair rise on the back of his neck as he fell back into step with Golbez, letting Edward and Harley stroll just out of earshot before muttering under his breath. If Golbez wanted to bait him, then he figured he may as well give the man a piece of his mind.

"Never in a _million_ years did I expect you to come back. When you burst into the throne room at the castle…I thought I was seeing a ghost."

And then, much to Kain's surprise, Golbez bowed his head and quietly laughed. Well, it was more like a series of quick grunts than full-on laughter – but Kain knew it was the closest he would ever get to seeing Golbez emote anything other than simmering rage or dysphoria. He was expecting at best, silence, and at worst, a one-way trip over the ledge of the path – so this was fairly promising. "It has been a while, hasn't it, Kain?"

Kain raised an eyebrow. _Indeed it has._ "I have somewhat mixed feelings about this reunion...but I must admit, you have been a strong ally for all of us – especially Cecil and Ceodore. If you weren't here, I fear those two would be lost many times over."

Golbez crossed his arms over his chest, lightly tapping a finger against his bicep as he gave Kain a once-over. "You seem to have changed, too, from last we met. Am I correct in my assumption that it's only been recently you've returned to the Baronian nest?"

Kain sucked a gulp of air between his teeth as he stared down at the glimmering emerald of his boots. "It took a very long time...but I have regained control of myself. Just as Cecil did...and just as you did as well, I suppose. As much as I wanted to blame everyone else around me for everything that happened during the war – _including you_ – in the end, I realized the only one to blame was myself. Perhaps some things happened to me that were beyond my control, but what I _did_ have control over was how I dealt with it all after the fact…that is to say, I didn't."

"So...what happened?"

"I set aside my pride and gave all of my heart to the one whose love I both craved and rejected for these last seventeen years. I decided that if my life was to be forfeit to keep him safe from my darkness, that it was the smallest price I could possibly pay. My transformation…I owe it all the power of the Lunarians... In particular, the power of you and Cecil's father."

"I see," Golbez nodded, and Kain inwardly winced. He suddenly wondered if it hurt Golbez at all to hear Kain talk about the way their father had saved his life, how Kluya had blessed both him and Cecil with a moonlit oath that Golbez had never gotten to experience as his firstborn son. A crooked smile formed on Golbez's lips, and Kain noticed for the first time that his mouth was identical to Cecil's – down to the slightly elongated right canine that brushed his pale lower lip and the brittle hold in the corner of his mouth that had always clued Kain in as to when Cecil was faking his happiness. That had been his tell since they were children that something was terribly wrong, and it seemed he had yet to grow out of it - Kain had noticed the precarious, fragile smile Cecil forced on his face when he saw Edward and Harley. "Is it reasonable for me to conclude that Cecil is the only reason why you haven't yet dealt me punishment for destroying your life?"

Kain met Golbez's gaze head-on, his ponytail falling over the curve of his shoulder as he paused. Golbez pivoted to face him.

"I don't want to be the one that makes Cecil look the way he did in the Lunar Core when he thought you were dead," Kain said coolly. " _Never again_. So yeah…if that's what you want to believe to help you sleep at night…have at it."

Golbez chuckled, shaking his head.

"I haven't slept in seventeen years, you realize."

Kain turned away, his heart hammering so intensely against his chest that he thought for sure he was about to pass out.

 _Me neither._

He had to mentally coach himself to put one foot in front of the other to begin walking again before the others noticed he and Golbez had fallen behind. "Is...is this moon related to yours at all?"

Golbez pressed his lips into a thin line, saying nothing as his footsteps fell in line with Kain's once more. Kain tried again, wondering if his attempt at changing the subject was really that transparent.

"What has happened to your moon in the ensuing years?"

"I do not know," Golbez looked away, and Kain came to another halt, his heart leaping into his throat.

"…The lunar crystals…they were truly destroyed?"

After a few beats, Golbez ceased walking as well, his back still to Kain. "The Lunarians' crystals were robbed of their power. The enemy's claws were upon them by the time I had awoken from stasis. It would seem Fusoya knew a bit more than he was willing to share with me, but…either way, the result was the same. Just as they did here, the shattered crystals on the Red Moon revealed to us a horrid enemy from the past – with nothing left to seal away Zemus' hatred, Zeromus was revived in the Lunar Core. When I feared I was to draw my last breath, Fusoya used the last of his power to teleport me to the Lunar Whale – and it had already been set on a course for the Blue Planet that I could not reverse."

Kain drew in a sharp breath. "So, both Fusoya…and the Red Moon…!"

Golbez unleashed a menacing growl that sent a shiver down Kain's spine. "Whoever controls _this_ moon...I am going to exact my revenge upon them. It's true that I returned for Cecil – even if it appeared to be unwillingly, I know Fusoya would not had made the decision he did unless he could see within my heart. But knowing everything I do now…I cannot allow this mockery to continue for a moment longer. The sleeping Lunarians didn't deserve to be obliterated for having the audacity to dream of a second chance at life. And Fusoya…he…" Golbez shook his head, exhaling shakily. "…He sent me because he knew it would come to this – he had the premonition of what would come to be. He knows that the role I play best…is destroyer of worlds."

When Kain looked away, he was shocked to see that the others had stopped walking ahead of them as well. But none of them were paying any attention to he or Golbez – the discovery of a new portal was the blessed distraction.

"The path ends here," Ceodore announced, hesitantly sheathing his blade and cutting off their light supply.

"And so we shall proceed," Golbez murmured, dying motes of starlight drowning in his gaze.

* * *

"What is this place?" Rydia whispered, her breath puffing out in little white clouds from the sudden plunge in temperature. "It's…beautiful – reminds me of a garden, frozen in time."

"We may have gone too far," Ursula muttered, not believing the cowardly words that were coming out of her mouth. But the truth was, she was now utterly terrified – unlike Rydia, she felt there was something about the sterility of this new place that reminded her of an abandoned hospital – a place someone would come to be healed, but all of the white mages had fled the premises, turning it instead into an arid graveyard where people simply came to die.

This new location to which they had been spirited away when they had left Yang was totally different – they had broken free of the tower and were now on a plane of crystal, surrounded by piercing white that reflected the waltzing stars above and made Ursula feel as if she were trapped inside a jewelry box. Curling crystalline plants that resembled the spiral of a snail's shell were blossoming at towering heights all around them, and clusters of diamond and sapphire shards were bursting out of the ground at their feet like clusters of wildflowers in a meadow. With each step forward, their footfalls rang out like someone playing scales on a piano. In the short distance ahead, an archway of snowy-white crystal awaited, labyrinthine carvings snaking beneath each face like ribbons dancing in the wind, forever frozen in time. What lay beyond was a portal of swirling space dust and starlight – bigger than any gateway they had yet to come across. A glass bridge that looked as if it would shatter if anyone actually walked upon it extended parallel from the gate on each side, extending to a floating island each overgrown with yet more crystal.

"Let's bring the others back here," Rydia said. "I don't want to go much further without them. It looks as if that giant portal is our ticket out of here."

"Good idea," Ursula said, letting out a sigh of relief as she wrapped her arms around herself and began to rub furiously. "Maybe I can borrow someone's cloak. Why do you think the temperature dropped so drastically?"

"I haven't the foggiest," Rydia shook her head. "I haven't understood the purpose of any of these chambers thus far…"

As they turned to leave, a thunderous crash burst near the archway, sending a puff of crystal shards flying in the air as a pile of wriggling limbs crashed onto the island to the left. Rydia and Ursula froze, their hearts pounding a mile a minute as a high-pitched shriek pierced the sky.

"I think one of those crystals went right up my…!"

"Oh my gods, that's Palom!" Rydia gasped, and Ursula clapped her hands together, eyes wide.

"And Porom and Leonora, too!"

"Ugh…" Porom groaned, sandwiched between Palom and Leonora with a crick in her neck the size of the Enterprise. "Leonora, do you think you can get off of me…?"

"I-I'm trying, Lady Porom!" Leonora squealed. "I…ack!" She suddenly tumbled backward, rolling off the ledge of the island and managing to grasp onto a crystal before she plunged into the depths below. "Oh…dear…!"

"Leonora!" Porom gasped, rolling onto her stomach and outstretching her hand. "Hold on…! FLOAT!"

Leonora sighed in relief as a pair of angel wings formed on her back, lifting her effortlessly into the air as she glided over the twins toward the bridge, where Rydia was jumping and calling to them. Leonora waved back excitedly, jumping up and down in mid-air.

"It's Lady Rydia…! And Ursula too!"

"Whew…what a view!" Palom grinned, giving Porom a rough shove off of him so that he could roll onto his back and admire Leonora flouncing up and down, her silken robes fluttering in the air. Porom grunted, gifting him a sharp kick in the shin that made him howl in pain and caused Leonora to halt her impromptu peep show when she spun around to see what happened.

After the mages had situated themselves and crossed the glass bridge to the main stretch of the garden, Rydia greeted each of them with a hug – except Palom, whom she only offered a condescending smile as a show of solidarity with Luca. He gave her a wicked grin in return, as always letting any bad vibes roll off his back.

"Was anyone else with you?" Ursula asked, and Leonora shook her head.

"I'm afraid not – just us three. We were with Harley and Edward but were separated quite some time ago. What of Yang, Luca and Cid?"

"We split up to explore – but we were just about to find everyone and bring them here," Rydia explained. "Wait here for us, and we'll be right back!"

A burst of static abruptly exploded from Porom's chest, drawing all eyes to her as she blushed deeply and proceeded to shield herself with her arm while she fumbled around the clasp of her cloak, withdrawing the sprig of whisperweed from where it had been tucked in her top.

"H-Hello?" Leonora shouted into Porom's breast, and Porom gently yanked Leonora's ponytail so that the girl was directing her voice toward the plant instead. There were a few beats of crackling air, and then suddenly Edward's voice came through, clear as a sunny day.

"Leonora!? Is that you? Are you OK?"

"We're all fine!" Leonora said cheerfully. "In fact, we're better than fine – we've just run into Rydia and Ursula!"

"You speak truly!?" Edward gasped, and Rydia couldn't help but beam at the sound of his voice. "As luck would have it, I've found some familiar faces as well. We were just about to step into another portal when the whisperweed suddenly went crazy."

"We must be at least close enough to each other if the whisperweed works again," Porom mused aloud, her gaze drifting over to the tiny island to the right. "…I wonder…"

"Um…" Leonora followed Porom's stare. "Perhaps you should try entering the portal one at a time."

"I suppose you have a reason for such a request?" Edward asked, and Leonora nodded, forgetting that he couldn't actually see her.

"Yeah…just give it a try," Palom added quickly. "Contact us again when you've made it to the other side." A few seconds later, the line went dead.

"I'll go and get Yang and the others," Rydia offered hurriedly as she spun back around toward the entryway. "I'll be back as soon as humanly possible."

"Don't worry…we already took care of that."

Rydia screamed in surprise when two shadows materialized before her, clasping her hand to her chest when she realized they were only Izayoi and Zangetsu. Izayoi giggled at Rydia's fright, smacking her ruby lips.

"You really didn't notice we were following you this entire time?"

"No!" Rydia protested, and Ursula rested her hand on her hip, shaking her head.

"Sorry to surprise you," Zangetsu smiled gently. Unlike Izayoi, he had not seemed to enjoy scaring Rydia as much. "King Yang and our master were just getting a touch worried about everyone."

"Your master? You mean Edge?" Rydia blinked. "You've _seen_ Edge?"

"Only a few moments ago when we went to fetch your comrades," Izayoi said. "Master Edge, King Yang, Princess Luca, Cid, Gekkou and Tsukinowa – they were waiting for you." She giggled. "Some more impatiently than others…"

"Damn," Rydia muttered, even as her stomach suddenly blossomed with a million butterflies at the thought of Edge being so near. _Edge is alive…but I still don't know if I want to kiss him or kill him for putting us through this wild goose chase!_

Another crash of thunder rolled across the chamber, a lithe-limbed figure materializing from the sky and collapsing over the right-most island as a whirlwind of disturbed crystal dust climbed into the air. Rydia's voice caught in her throat as she made her approach, shielding her eyes as a sudden blast of arctic air sent the dust flying in her face, whipping back her hair and cape. Even half-blinded, she caught the familiar glimpse of polished azure and pearl armor, and silver hair that cascaded in the wind like silken ribbons…

"…Rydia?"

Cecil slowly lifted himself onto his knees in the center of a bed of pulsing crystals, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he smiled tranquilly. "...Is it really you this time?"

"This time?" Rydia choked, shaking her head quickly. She had no idea what he could possibly be talking about – but couldn't bring herself to waste precious seconds asking. Before she could comprehend what was happening, she found her legs carrying her across the length of the bridge, her arms pumping furiously as a stream of tears trailed down her cheeks. Cecil staggered to his feet, extending his arms toward her, when a sweep of shadow suddenly plummeted between them, and Edge materialized in a plume of smoke, laughing bawdily as he threw his arms around Cecil's neck.

"Long time no see, buddy!" Edge exclaimed, and Rydia slid to a halt, her eyes two pits of flame as Cecil's arms apologetically wrapped around Edge, the paladin patting his back awkwardly as he shot Rydia a look that screamed _"HELP ME!"_.

"H-Hey Edge…you're…as energetic as ever," Cecil stammered, and Edge pulled back, grinning as he looked Cecil up and down.

"It's about _time_ you got here. We've been waiting for you, you know – can't get this show on the road without the star."

"Oh, _please_!" Rydia shrieked. "If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place! You just HAD to run off, didn't you? Thought big, bad Edge was going to save the world all on his own? What the HELL were you thinking!?"

"Oh my gods, I'm having déjà vu," Cecil murmured, pressing his fingers to his temple to check for any obvious signs of a wound. "Did I just fall into another coma?"

"Oh ho ho," Edge snorted, spinning toward Rydia and crossing his arms defiantly. "And like a petulant child, you just couldn't stay put on the ship, huh? I told you I'd be right back. When are you going to understand that I'm just trying to protect you?"

"Edge," Cecil warned, his eyes wide. "Do. Not. Say. The C-word."

"Huh?" Edge blinked, but he had already sealed his fate. Rydia released an ear-shattering scream and dove on top of him, slamming him to the ground as she reached back for her whip.

"Should we stop them!?" Leonora gasped, and Palom shook his head.

"She can control eidolons, and he's a weasel. Best to just let natural selection take its course at this point."

The portal above the brawling duo began to glow again, and Cecil managed to side-step away just in time for another person to fall through – this time it was Rosa, whom he caught readily. She peered down at Rydia and Edge from over Cecil's shoulder, the latter of which had managed to raise his arms enough to shield his face as Rydia fumbled to get her weapon detached from her belt. Rosa giggled behind her hand.

"Oh my goodness, it's just like old times!"

"You guys better get out of there," Ursula bellowed. "Or the next person that comes through is going to knock you over like a bunch of pins!"

Cecil set Rosa down, proceeding to drag both and Rydia and Edge down the bridge as more of their party made their way through the portal – Edward, Harley, Ceodore, Kain, and finally Golbez. Meanwhile, Yang and the others had caught up to Edge, who was hiding behind Cecil as Rosa and Edward struggled to hold Rydia back; she was now foaming at the mouth.

"What is going on here?" Yang laughed, and Ursula and Porom proceeded to throw themselves at Cecil, each grabbing one of his arms and clinging for dear life. Cecil blushed as he tried to keep up with their rapid-fire greetings and questions, his head spinning as he turned back and forth between each girl whenever she spoke. Cid and Luca bounded over next, Cid's ruddy face already wracked with tears, and Palom, who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed and a look of boredom slashed across his face, finally gave up his too-cool act when he caught Leonora's encouraging smile from the corner of his eye – out of everyone in the room, she was the only one who didn't have her eyes trained on the newly-revived Cecil.

"Go on," she whispered. "You were so worried about him…right?"

"Eh…" Palom shrugged, his eyes twinkling as he took a few steps forward. "I wouldn't want him to think I missed him too badly."

Amid the swell of chatter and the random questions being slung at the newcomers (but mostly Cecil), Ceodore shrunk back between Kain and Golbez, his stomach twisting queerly as the chorus of the excited voices shattering the still atmosphere melted into a blur that made his brain throb with every shout. Beneath it all, a harried whisper echoed in his skull with each beat of his heart, so loud and close now that he could practically feel the mouth against his ear.

 _Darkness…_

 _Light…_

 _In the end, none of it matters…_

 _I will save you from this agony…that which comes from each breath leading you closer still to death…_

"Ugh…" Ceodore groaned to himself, pressing his hand to his forehead and wincing at the clash of his freezing fingers against his burning skin. "That voice again…"

Kain and Golbez both glanced down at Ceodore, watching as he pushed his fingers through his hair and clenched his jaw.

"What's wrong?" Kain asked, and Ceodore shook his head slowly, mumbling something incomprehensible under his breath. Golbez cringed when he saw the light in Ceodore's eyes briefly flicker to obsidian, staining his gaze the same color as the depthless galaxy.

"Get the boy someplace quiet," Golbez said under his breath, and Kain looked up at Golbez, noting the concerned lines that were tracing his narrowed eyes. He gently took Ceodore by the arm, coaxing him toward the archway as he stumbled behind him.

"Kain…"

When they were safely out of earshot from the others, Kain pushed on Ceodore's shoulder, gesturing for him to sit down. Ceodore collapsed on the floor wordlessly, and Kain sat beside him, leaning in.

"Doesn't having Cecil back make you happy at all?"

It was as if someone had lit a torch behind Ceodore's eyes. He suddenly sat up straight, blinking away the haze that had settled in his stare. "O-of course! I'm overjoyed! It's just that, well…"

Kain continued to stare at him, unyielding, and Ceodore squirmed, pressing his hands together as he looked back up toward the gathering crowd around his father. He spied Ursula's puffy pigtails, like two overgrown hydrangea bushes, bounce excitedly as she fluttered between her father and his. Golbez had slipped behind Rosa, who had finally managed to calm Rydia, and was whispering something in her ear.

"Just that…"

Kain's gaze followed Ceodore's, and he shook his head. "Having a world leader as a father would be a heavy burden to bear for anyone."

"Huh?" Ceodore paled. _Damn…how can someone I barely know understand exactly what I am thinking?_

Kain pressed his fingers to his lips as he watched Cecil spin around toward a shyly smirking Palom poking him with the end of his rod and quickly retracting it before Cecil could see. "My father was a dragoon himself. The dragoons of Baron once formed the most prestigious of all armed divisions…until the Red Wings were formed, that is. I idolized the dragoons since childhood…but I _hated_ my strict and unrelenting father…"

Ceodore bit his lower lip as Kain stared at his reflection in the floor, a sad smile lifting the corners of his pale mouth.

 _Kain…you told me once that you knew it was hard to grow up in someone's shadow... But I had no idea that you understood first-hand…_

"Do you hate Cecil, Ceodore?" Kain asked softly, and Ceodore gasped, quickly shaking his head.

"N-no… Sometimes I get confused and scared about what it means, being his son…but I love him. That's why I wanted to come here… _I love him_ , and I'm not ready to be without him. I…I don't know if I ever will be, to be honest."

Kain nodded. "Good. That means you too, will come to understand, eventually. You don't have to have all the answers now. I know you'll find your way – not because you're Cecil's son – but because you're Ceodore Harvey."

Ceodore felt a spasm hiccup in his chest as tears sprung to his eyes. "What happened to your father, Kain? In Mist Cave, you told me your family was gone before the war had broken out."

"He died," Kain said softly. "When I was a little younger than you. There were whispers of an assassination attempt – I never learned the truth, and the men who might have known are long-gone along with him."

"I'm sorry," Ceodore whispered, and Kain shook his head.

"I made my peace with it all long ago. What's important now is that we have to stop this moon."

"Yes!" Ceodore scrambled to his feet, eyes wide. "…Thanks. I hope you know I appreciate everything you've done for me…and for my parents."

"You don't have to thank me," Kain said, standing up alongside him. "But if anything is wrong, you have to say something – don't just keep it buried inside, OK?"

"Right," Ceodore nodded. "Sorry…I think I was just overwhelmed before – it's been a while since we've actually had something _good_ happen to us. And then I remembered a creepy dream I had on the Lunar Whale…it's like my brain can't let me be happy for even a moment."

"You should talk to your father or Golbez about that," Kain frowned. "You Lunarians are prone to premonitions – and I don't like the timing of a dream like that."

"Umm…" Ceodore nodded nervously, plastering a fake smile on his face. "Right. I'll bring it up straight away."

But the truth was, he was terrified at what either man might have to say – if it was a premonition, wouldn't they have had the same dream and brought it up by now? What did it mean if only _he_ could hear the voice?

A few yards away, Rosa was quietly watching Kain and Ceodore as they talked. Golbez had told her that Ceodore didn't seem to be well – but from what she could see, he was perhaps just suffering from a case of nerves. She watched with a small smile as Ceodore wrapped his arms around Kain, Kain returning the hug and patting the boy a few times on the back before they broke apart.

 _Thank you, Kain!_ Rosa thought, her heart soaring. _Surely the gods would not bring a blessing like you back into our lives, only to tear us apart with the destruction of our world…_

 _I simply won't believe it._

A low hush suddenly rolled over the chamber, causing Rosa, Kain and Ceodore to all turn toward the crowd that had been gathered around Cecil. Edward was fumbling with something in his vest. Moments later, he retrieved the bouquet of whisperweed, gesturing for everyone to quiet down when another hum of whispers started up.

"Edward! Are you serious?" Cecil asked, and Edward nodded, holding the bouquet out from his chest.

" _Deadly_ serious. I know I heard it – just now."

"We're a great distance away from our home planet, you know," Edge frowned.

"King…Edward…Can…you hear…us?" a small voice crackled through the flowers, and Edward gasped, shooting Edge an "I told you so!" face that made the ninja wither in surprise.

"That voice!" Harley exclaimed.

"There's no doubt about it," Edward smiled, leaning in so he could speak into the flowers. "That's the chancellor of Damcyan I hear!"

"Your voice!" the chancellor gasped. "Thank heavens…I finally…can hear your voice…We thought you were lost to us."

"How are things going down there?" Edward asked.

"…Terrible. Simply terrible. We are enshrouded in deep darkness… The wind and waters are raging…"

"Oh, no…" Rydia pressed her hands to her mouth, shaking her head. "To escalate so quickly…!"

Edge scooted in, butting past Palom and Porom as Edward tilted the bouquet toward his face. "This is Edge Geraldine. Have you heard anything from the other nations?"

A blast of static exploded through the blooms, and Edge winced as the chancellor's voice became choppy. "I fear…we are no longer able to so much as set foot outside our own castle. All nations…are effectively cut off from one another."

"What!?" Edge hissed, and Cecil shook his head, crossing his arms.

"We must work faster than ever if we have any hope of reversing some of this damage."

"That voice…Is that King Cecil!?" the chancellor questioned, and Edward nodded.

"Yes. The one and only."

"He's regained his senses?"

Both Harley and Edward winced at the diplomatic fail as Cecil took a deep breath and leaned in closer to the bouquet. "I apologize for all I have wrought. I couldn't have made it back without Harley and Edward's support. I know I'm being selfish for calling them away during this time of calamity, but I hope that you are someday able to forgive me..."

"Cecil…" Edward began, but the whisperweed burst to life again with excited glee.

"Ah, no need for apologies at a time like this! This is fantastic news! If King Cecil is with you, the moon is as good as gone…"

Cecil turned away, closing his eyes as Edward hurriedly took back the whisperweed. "I'm sorry, but can you hold out just a little longer? We need you to stay strong – we're close – I can feel it."

"By all means, my lord! You have nothing to worry about with us. But, my lord…please take care of yourself. Damcyan could hardly exist without your stout leadership. And I'm sure you understand that means Harley needs to come back in one piece, too."

"Harley has been the one taking care of us," Edward smiled, and Harley rolled her eyes, turning away in a huff. She hated getting any kind of attention for simply doing her job. "I thank you. Be safe, everyone."

"Yes, my lord!"

The line went dead, and Edward lowered the flowers, biting his lip. "I hope we can make it in time."

"We must!" Rydia whimpered. "No matter what happens!"

"Things sound pretty bad down there," Cid sighed. "Can't even imagine the shape Baron is in."

"I fear that it will only escalate quicker," Edward frowned. Think about this – why has the whisperweed suddenly begun to work again?"

"What!?" Rydia blinked, and Cecil lifted his gaze.

"Is it because the moon…?"

Edward nodded. "Indeed. It means this moon has come that close to reaching our homeland."

"No…!" Rydia gulped, her knees buckling. "It feels like we've only been here for a short time!" Edge spun around to face her, taking her hand into his.

"Then we just have to keep moving – with this crazy crew, nothing can possibly get in our way. It will be OK – I'll make sure of it!" To his surprise, she merely nodded, squeezing his hand as she blinked the tears out of her eyes.

"Let's go!" Cecil cried, pointing toward the archway. "We'll take this portal and see where it leads."

The rush of pounding footsteps filled the crystal garden. Kain and Ceodore, closest to the archway, were the first to step inside the portal, when a sudden flash of light exploded before them, sending them flying backwards into the crowd. Cecil managed to catch Ceodore before he smashed into Harley, and Kain used the force to propel himself into a backflip, sliding backwards as he landed on bended knee. The starlight in the portal rippled like the rings of a pond, and the mysterious girl stepped outside to greet them, her feet levitating from the floor as she swept her gaze over the room.

"Damn!" Cecil cursed under his breath, lowering Ceodore to the floor and withdrawing his blade. Ceodore scrambled to follow suit, still half-stunned from the blast as he blindly felt for his own weapon.

"Well, look who decided to finally show up!" Edge laughed, sauntering to the front of the crowd. "Nice place you got here."

 _Is this just another copy?_ Golbez thought to himself, cracking his knuckles. _Or is she the one who paid us a visit in the Lunar Core?_

The crack of a whip ignited in the air, and Rydia shoved past Cecil and Ceodore, swiping away Edge's outstretched hand as she marched past him and got right in the mysterious girl's face. "I'm sure you know by now – but you were not able to force me to kill Asura and Leviathan! I've rescued them…and that leaves just one more eidolon. Where is Bahamut!?"

The mysterious girl giggled, placing her palm on Rydia and promptly blasting her away with a stunning purple light. Rydia shrieked as she flew through the air like a ragdoll, Golbez diving forward just in time to grab her before she became impaled by a cluster of crystal statues. Rydia's head lolled backward in his arms, her eyes sliding shut. Porom rushed to them, crying out a Raise spell.

Their uninvited guest clicked her tongue. "I had not anticipated that you'd make it to this point. But the world that lies ahead has no place for you. It is time for you to disappear...under the force of a power you know all too well!" She glared at Rydia, who was slowly climbing back into consciousness as Porom poured more healing magic into her. "You should feel lucky that I'm allowing you to say good-bye – normally, I would find such a sentiment…well, incomprehensible."

A gruesome quake began to rock the chamber, sending a nebula of rainbow dust into the air as the crystals around them began to shiver and erupt in a chorus of tinkling glass, hairline fractures racing up their faces. A shadow-laced claw tore through the portal of the archway, swinging recklessly to the left and demolishing the supporting column. As the archway's keystone shuddered and broke loose from above, the rest of Bahamut made his way out of the portal, the keystone colliding with his skull with the same effect as a pebble bouncing off an ogre. With a snort, Bahamut shook his head, sending chunks of marble flying before slamming his tail into the remaining column and completing the archway's transformation into chalky rubble. The mysterious girl backed away silently, her eyes glowing with pleasure as Bahamut threw his wiry neck back and released a blaring roar that sent the chamber into another spasm.

"Bahamut...!" Rydia coughed, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as she struggled to catch her breath. "Please…!"

Cecil turned his gaze on the mysterious girl, glowering. Memories were pouring into him, unbidden – the way Bahamut's outstretched wing blocked the sun on the lookout of Baron Castle, drenching Cecil in darkness before the dragon's attack had nearly snuffed away his life, the thunderous destruction that had ripped through his throne room like a hurricane as he fell away, further and further, into himself, unable to even lift a finger in defense of his own kingdom…

"I will not allow this to end as it did once before!" He twisted toward the dragon, his eyes pleading even as he lifted his blade in the direction of Bahamut's heart. "Bahamut! The one you've pledged yourself to stands here before you – open your eyes!"

"Words will serve no purpose," Golbez frowned. "Bahamut is under her complete control."

"I see you at least are capable of retaining some information," the mysterious girl grinned. "Go Bahamut! Go forth and obliterate them!" And with that, she traced open a shining blue portal next to her with her fingertip, and dove within, disappearing from the battlefield.

Bahamut snorted a trail of fire that stretched across the chamber from above, staining the heavens the color of raging blood. Rydia gingerly shoved Golbez away from her, sliding down from his arms and scrambling toward Cecil. She grabbed his arm, forcing his sword to the floor as she gazed up at Bahamut's deadened stare.

"Bahamut! It's me! Please, you _must_ remember!"

With a billowing gust of wind that nearly knocked everyone in the front row off their feet, Bahamut lifted himself from the floor with his wings, whirling his body around to smash them with his tail. Cecil grabbed Rydia and dove out of the way with seconds to spare, the two of them crashing into a tower of mist-colored quartz that shattered from the impact and rained upon them. Porom and Leonora executed twin Protect spells, the tail-turned-whip smashing into the golden shield that washed over the rest of the party.

"Bahamut!" Rydia shrieked as she choked on crystal dust. "DON'T DO THIS!"

"What are we supposed to do?" Cecil asked, pulling her into his chest as another cascade of quartz showered them from above. "How did you awaken the others?"

"There's something that must be unlocked in the eidolon's heart," Rydia moaned. "And my heart…it's not always enough to make theirs stir."

Bahamut circled the chamber, screeching another warning cry as he blasted hellfire upon everyone below. A barrage of Shell magic was released by the collective of white mages as a counter, temporarily filling the gardens with a halo of shimmering green light. Stymied, Bahamut drew his wings back defiantly, launching himself higher into the air and tilting his head back as a flood of boiling red and blue flame began to gurgle in his extended maw.

"Mega Flare!" Edward cried. "We haven't much time!"

A wave of panic rolled over the group, and Rosa stuck her fingers between her lips, discharging a sharp whistle and holding up her other hand so that she could get everyone's attention. The harried mumbling came to a halt, and she cupped her hands around her mouth so that her voice carried as far as possible.

"Listen! The _only_ way to escape Mega Flare is with Reflect magic. Who among us knows Reflect?" Rosa kept her hand up as her eyes swept over the crowd – she counted Porom, Leonora and Ceodore among the raised hands, and pressed her lips together.

"OK…here's what we'll do. If each of us can cast for five targets simultaneously, then we can protect the entire party before Bahamut can attack."

"F-Five targets?" Leonora blanched. "Queen Rosa…I apologize, but…isn't that impossible?"

"Erg…I second Leonora's question," Porom gulped. Ceodore stared down at his feet, his pulse racing as he counted himself in as a silent third doubter. He knew his mother could multicast Reflect – he had witnessed as much during their first battle with Bahamut – but he also saw how it had wrecked her afterward, remembering how she had needed to use Kain as a crutch just to stand under her own power.

 _Even if we manage to cast the spell…we'll be left vulnerable for the next blow!_

"It's not _impossible_ ," Rosa said quickly, her assurances tripping over themselves as they tumbled out of her mouth. Above, the dragon's maw was starting to boil over with rolling smoke and liquid flame - it wouldn't be long now until his attack was fully charged. "You just need to concentrate as intensely as you can manage to get a perfect image of your targets – you must block everything else out and pour every drop of mana you have into the spell."

Porom bit her lip, and Palom gave her ponytail a violent tug.

"Ouch! What the hell was that for at a time like this?"

"Come on Porom," Palom frowned. "You can do this – should be a piece of cake."

"That's right, Lady Porom," Leonora nodded. "Such a task should come naturally to a talent like you."

"Then you'd better put up or shut up!" Palom barked, spinning around to face Leonora and causing her to squeal when she saw the rabid sneer on his face. "White magic is supposed to be your specialty, right? What kind of Epopt can't multicast a mid-level spell like Reflect?"

"Um…all of them…" Leonora began, but Palom held up his hand, shaking his head.

"Uh-uh, don't wanna hear it. Consider this a test, or you can no longer be my student."

"W-What!?" Leonora shrieked. Ceodore turned away, willing his heart to calm itself as he hesitantly sheathed his blade.

 _I promised Mother I would protect all of us when I accepted Excalibur – an oath I will never break, no matter how afraid I might be. So, I have to try…if I don't, it could be a matter of life and death!_

The other young mages had seemed to reluctantly reach the same conclusion as Ceodore. "OK, let's do this!" Porom cried, closing her eyes. "Palom, Luca, Cid, Yang – gather around me!"

"E-Eblan Four!" Leonora murmured, and the ninjas flocked over to her, Izayoi giving Leonora a wink that made the girl's cheeks stain with red before she closed her eyes.

Rosa fled to Cecil and Rydia's side as the two of them were struggling to their feet, calling for Kain to follow her. Edge disappeared in a puff of smoke and reappeared at Rydia's side, sliding under her other arm so he could help Cecil lift her from the floor. Ceodore felt his eye twitch as Ursula marched straight up to him, her hands on her hips.

"I'm counting on you – keep in mind this is the only time I'm going to let you play the dashing knight."

"…Wait, what?" Ceodore squeaked. "I don't…"

"Don't you have a spell to cast!?" Ursula growled, and Ceodore nodded quickly, closing his eyes as Harley, Edward and Golbez made their approach. Ceodore felt a heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder as he tried to begin the arduous process of wiping his mind clean. A calm baritone that sank into his blood like a sedative washed over him dreamily as he felt the crushing weight of the fear in his chest grow lesser and lesser. It was dim, and slight – but nonetheless, he could feel it: a gentle light thrumming against the curve of his neck like a second pulse, foreign yet achingly familiar all at the same time.

"Believe in your light, boy – it will never lead you astray."

 _Thank you, Golbez…_ Ceodore smiled slightly. _I can feel it…he's pouring his power into my very core…! It's just like when Kain helped me wake up Odin..._

The four white mages sank into a trance, a blossoming opaline aura swirling in the center of the chamber that grew in ferocity as the intensity of their prayers escalated. Ceodore could feel the otherworldly energy that was welling inside of him about to reach the brink, filling the blank space in his mind with watercolor-tinged apparitions of Edward, Harley, Ursula, Golbez and himself, healthy and whole and bathed in a prismatic sheen that that made his eyes hurt even behind the shield of his eyelids.

"Reflect!" Ceodore cried, lifting his hand into the air. He felt the stream of readied magic retreat from his body, a spine-tingling shriek echoing in the air as the reflective shields promptly formed around his party and the others scattered about the chamber. He felt a whoosh of breath suddenly eject from his chest, and realized his body was rapidly fatiguing from the enormous amount of mana he just had spent. As he fell forward, the visions in his mind's eye scattering into crystal dust, a dragon's roar rocked his skull, and he saw a fleeting flash of a smoke-logged daydream: The same rainbow shield that was supposed to be protecting them was encircling Bahamut's plated torso, and a dizzying maelstrom of incandescence ricocheted off effortlessly, crashing into the gardens below like a meteor.

"No…!" Ceodore gasped, his eyes snapping open as a curtain of dusk drowned his sight. "It's…!"

Golbez clenched his jaw as he swept down to catch Ceodore before he fell, the very same vision sending a shooting pain through his temple. To the north, Cecil was paralyzed in place behind his own reflective shield, his eyes pools of sunken space as he mouthed the rest of Ceodore's outburst.

 _"…A trap."_

"Ooops – forgot one last thing!"

The mysterious girl stepped through another portal that had torn open next to Bahamut's hovering form, raising her hands in the air and shaking her head. Bahamut ceased his attack as he craned his neck to face her, a spill of flame flinging from between his teeth and crashing into a tower of crystal, instantly melting it into glittering sludge that burned a hole through the floor. The mysterious girl cast her own Reflect spell on Bahamut, pressing her fingers to her lips as she gazed over the sea of stunned faces beneath.

"It was foolish of you to show me your hand in Baron during your first encounter with the All-Father," she sneered. "But still, I thank you for your cooperation – I admit that I may not have come up with this little idea if you hadn't shown me the power of Reflect. You can resume dying now – sorry for the interruption!" She snapped her fingers, and Bahamut looked away from her, tossing his head in the air and unleashing the blistering Mega Flare spell – _on himself_.

"No!" Rosa shrieked, staggering against Kain as she craned her neck to watch Bahamut. "A spell that has been reflected once will not react to another instance of the spell – the second Reflect spell is rendered null!"

"What!?" Yang cried as both he and Palom took hold of Porom before she passed out standing up – her eyes were rolling in the back of her head as she struggled to cling to consciousness. "How could this be happening?"

 _We landed right where she wanted us,_ Cecil seethed. _She wanted us to deplete our white magic so that we were left defenseless!_

"We have to run!" Gekkou gasped. "To the exit, now!"

But it was too late – the boiling, popping flares of fire reverberated off of Bahamut's shield and were soaring through space right for them. Cecil let his sword clatter to the floor, clasping his hands together in prayer as he closed his eyes and uttered the only spell that he knew had any hope of saving the others. In his mind, he pictured pulsing blue lights, the clang of a stainless-steel bridge that swayed slightly beneath his feet, and the golden warmth of a crystal's light that poured over panels of shiny monitors and buzzing radar maps.

 _"…Teleport!"_

A detonation of silver moonlight flooded the chamber from its center, swallowing the screams and bodies of their friends as Mega Flare collided with his white magic and cumulated into a world-shaking explosion that forced Cecil to his knees. The activity around him slowed to a crawl while the blast resonated in his ears - he could hear a chorus of confused wails and saw a second curtain of violet light sweep through the impact site toward him, wracking his body with chills as it enveloped him.

And then all at once, time's flow was restored; Cecil's face smashed into the floor as he was thrown forward, stars dancing behind his eyes.

"Cecil...what did you do!?" Edge choked, and Cecil pushed his hair out of his face, peering behind him. Rosa, Kain, Edge and Rydia were still with him and staring, dumbfounded, at the now smoking, abandoned chamber. Bahamut was flapping his wings impatiently, pouring over the sudden emptiness below as if he were confused about what had just transpired. Cecil turned back to the carnage that had ignited in the gardens, pressing his shaking hands against the ground. The sound of shattering crystal continued to ring through the air as the aftermath of the explosion made tremble the space around them.

"I'm…I'm sorry…" Cecil lowered his head, clenching his jaw as he slammed his fist down. "The…the only way I could think to save them…was by taking them away from here."

The smell of steel suddenly filled the air as a slender, sloping figure materialized in the afterglow of the violet light, a gleaming scimitar cocked in her hand as she stepped away from a huddling pair of figures that had been obscured by a drifting billow of crystal dust. She took a few purposeful strides toward Bahamut's hulking form, her canary gown whipping between her legs as a growl rumbled deep from within her chest.

 _"Bahamut!"_

"Asura!" Rydia gasped, her jaw dropping. "What are you doing here?" She hadn't remembered summoning the queen – not that she could recall anything that had been running through her brain just seconds before when she thought she was about to die.

The first figure Asura had been shielding suddenly rolled over onto his back, letting out a painful moan as a spill of black fluttered over the floor. It was Golbez – and sprawled beneath him was Ceodore, curled into a fetal position from when Golbez had thrown him down to cover him from Bahamut's attack.

"Oh my gods," Rosa murmured. "Did Asura shield us from Bahamut and Cecil's magic?" All Cecil could do was shake his head in confusion, the consequences of his rash decision slowly starting to sink in.

They had suddenly been reduced from a mighty army of twenty to a half-functioning party of seven – and he knew there was no way he could possibly call the others back, even if he wanted to. The pulsing energy of their very souls that he had been able to sense with ease thanks to his Lunarian blood had completely dissipated – it was as if someone had slammed the window shut in Cecil's mind that had let their vitality freely pass through to him. And with Porom and Leonora's mana most likely depleted beyond recovery…he had left them defenseless, too, w _herever_ they were. He had tried to picture the Lunar Whale based on his memories from seventeen years prior when he had cast the spell – but how successful could he have been if he hadn't even managed to teleport everyone in the first place? He had never fooled himself into thinking he was even a quarter of the mage Rosa was, but this…oh, this was a disaster.

Asura, who was totally ignoring them at this point, was waving her sword threateningly toward the wyvern. "My lord! This moon is not the one to which you belong!"

"You waste your time!" the mysterious girl snorted. She gave her fingers another snap, and Bahamut promptly dispensed a barrage of flames over Asura.

"Your Majesty!" Rydia cried, scrambling to her feet. "You mustn't!"

Suddenly, a tidal wave poured onto Asura from above, swirling around the queen in a fortress of transparent bubbles. She burst through the raging waters as the fire gave way steam, soaked to the bone but triumphant over Bahamut's attempt to end her. Leviathan materialized by her side, his stocking cap sliding off the back of his head sleepily as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Bahamut! It is I – your son!"

"Your Highness!" Rydia gaped. Now she was _positive_ she hadn't summoned either of them.

Leviathan turned to Rydia, shaking his head. "If he remains under her control, then we have no choice – we will fight back. Rydia…you must be willing to go to the lengths for Bahamut of which you were willing for Asura and I when we would not come to our senses."

"I _can't_ fight Bahamut!" Rydia protested. "And I certainly can't do what you are suggesting…had things gone differently, I would not have been able or willing to take your lives…I realize that now!"

Bahamut cast another Mega Flare spell, this time with the King and Queen of Eidolons in his crosshairs. Leviathan threw up a wall of water, but his magic only managed to buy them a few moments of time – Bahamut's spell would not be stymied, and eventually penetrated the waves, pushing the waters to their boiling point. Leviathan fell back, his arms trembling as he struggled to hold the scalding water back from himself and Asura. Just as his strength began to fail him, Edge darted between the eidolons and the wave, his back toward the spell as he extended his cloak of flame.

"Edge!" Rydia screamed. "Get away from there!"

The blistering waters crashed upon Edge, throwing him against Leviathan and Asura as the fibers of his cloak glowed in rivers of pulsing crystalline veins, absorbing the water and transforming it into pure energy that seeped into Edge's marrow. He whirled around, his blue-gray eyes scintillating with brilliance as he reached for his belt and pulled out a small glass vial. He popped the cork off with his thumb, reaching with his other hand to the crystal inlaid at the neck of his cloak and removing something sleek and green that he swiftly stuffed into the vial.

 _What in the world is he doing?_ Rydia blinked.

He then reeled back, launching the vial through the air into impossible heights thanks to his overflowing strength and watching with a slight smirk as it smashed cleanly between Bahamut's eyes, pearl-streaked smoke and emerald orbitals of light enveloping the wyvern's maw while he thrashed fiercely and unleashed a terrible scream.

While Bahamut was distracted, Rydia ran to Edge, grabbing hold of his arm.

"What the hell was all that!?"

"Smelling salts. Old Eblanese recipe Izayoi has been perfecting for me as of late."

"Not just that!" Rydia huffed. "What's with the cape? I thought you were fixing to get yourself killed!"

"Oh, this?" Edge grinned, spinning in a circle. "I'll be happy to catch you up later if we survive this. It's nice to see you show an interest in what I've got going on, for once."

"You guys…" Kain warned as Asura and Leviathan looked at each other, exchanging looks of disbelief. "This isn't over yet."

The mysterious girl was getting impatient as well - she had been fanning away the smoke from that _trash_ the imbecile had pitched at Bahamut, her throat itching from the overwhelming spill of hyacinth and mist that now permeated the air. She clenched her fist, hissing between her teeth. "Enough of these silly parlor tricks. Just finish them off, already!"

But this time, instead of turning back to his targets, Bahamut blinked sleepily through the fading haze of the smelling salts, looking at the mysterious girl as if she had spoken Greek.

"What?" she barked.

Bahamut responded by unhinging his jaw and spewing a discharge of flames over the girl. She fell to her knees in mid-air, clawing at her torched dress to try to smother the fire and shaking her head frantically.

"No… NO!"

Bahamut drew back, snorting out a surge of smoke that rushed into her lungs, causing her to gag on her screams and break down into a massive coughing fit as the flames continued to dance around her. "You dared to believe you had rule over our eidolons?"

"What?" the mysterious girl choked, her burning hair falling out in blackened clumps over her shoulders as heat blisters exploded on her porcelain skin. Rydia couldn't bear to look any longer; she turned away, burying her head in Edge's shoulder as he pulled her against him and kept watch, something very dark inside of him enjoying this show after that girl had forced him to witness his parents' demise all over again.

"My eidolons are much more than mere pawns of power! Does the true light reside within you? Bahamut, Father of all Eidolons, shall deliver your final judgment!" He drew his head back, the girl's hair and dress whipping against the vacuum of wind as he drew in a readying breath, another spill of liquid flame dripping between his ivory teeth.

"R-Reflect…" the mysterious girl whimpered, but Bahamut chuckled menacingly, the laughter rolling deep from his core.

"You waste your breath!"

And with that, he sprung forward, and instead of casting another spell, snapped her head off cleanly within his jaws. Rydia heard the thump of a body hitting the ground, digging her fingers into Edge's shoulder blades as she gagged. Cecil, Rosa and Kain could only stare in shock as the remains of the girl's bloodied and burned body flopped over like a sack of flour, flecks of ash and ember rising off of what was left. Bahamut made a show of swallowing his prize and then floated down to the others, tucking in his wings as he nodded to Asura, then Leviathan. Edge patted Rydia on the back, whispering something in her ear. She slowly lifted her head, turning to face the All-Father that was looming above her and swallowing the leaden ball in her throat.

"Bahamut...! You are truly with us once more?"

He gave a curt nod of his snout. "Rydia… We eidolons shall be with you always! Forgive my transgressions against you and your friends. I am deeply sorrowed that you and my own children had to suffer so terribly in my absence."

"All is forgiven, Father," Asura waved her hand nonchalantly. "We too, were under that witch's thrall. Had Rydia and her friends not had the courage to come to this dread place, we would have never been saved. All eidolons the universe-over are in her debt."

"Indeed," Leviathan nodded, raising an eyebrow toward Cecil. "Righteous light is surely by your side again now, my child."

Cecil nodded weakly as he lifted his head. "…This is all thanks to you, Rydia. You said that your heart was not enough…but it's _your_ heart that links us to the eidolons, that bridges the gap between planes so that we may fight for our world as one."

"He speaks true," Asura smiled. "With the All-Father and the holy paladin by your side, any battles you face from hereon will be yours to lose."

Edge grinned, crossing his arms. "I guess this means all the actors have taken their places… Right, Rydia?"

"Yes…I suppose so," Rydia smiled, holding out her hand. Bahamut extended an obsidian-tipped claw, the length of just one filling Rydia's grasp as they gingerly shook on their renewed promise.

Asura doused the party with healing magic before she, Leviathan and Bahamut disappeared in a shower of yellow crystal orbs. As Rosa rushed to the now-stirring Ceodore and Golbez's side, Cecil, Kain, Edge and Rydia turned toward the portal that had once been housed by the archway, now a putrid mix of bleeding blacks with an ominous throb of lightning that broke through at random every few moments. All of them carefully tried to avoid the macabre display of the mysterious girl's rotting corpse a few feet away, which was still being feasted upon by the slow burn from the remains of Bahamut's magic.

"Sorry about my outburst before," Edge stared down at his feet sheepishly. "I was just shocked – seeing everyone disappear before my eyes – for a moment, I thought Bahamut had gotten them. You did the right thing, Cecil – getting our friends out of there. You have my eternal gratitude for saving the Eblan Four…the others too, of course."

"I don't know about that," Cecil paled, shaking his head. "I had panicked – and now…"

"Stop it," Kain demanded, and Cecil looked up at him. "Had you even a second of hesitance, they would have been lost to us forever. I'm sure they're somewhere safe, and they'll figure out what to do. You don't think so little of them that they would just roll over and give up after all this, right?"

"Of course not!" Cecil glared. "You know I don't feel that way. I just wanted to…"

"…Protect them. I know," Kain sighed. "Even after all this time…"

"Huh?" Cecil blinked, but they were interrupted when Rosa, Golbez and Ceodore made their approach.

"Is everyone all right?" Rydia asked, and Ceodore nodded weakly. Golbez inattentively snapped his prayer beads across his wrist, eyeing the unnerving state of the portal behind them.

"There's no turning back after this," Cecil frowned. "If anyone wants to leave…this is the time to do it." He looked around at the others, who were all staring at him blankly. "Perhaps Asura did stop my spell before – but I'm willing to cast it again now. No questions asked – just say the word."

"We're not going anywhere," Rosa smiled, placing her hand over his. "We're all in this together…right?"

"Yep!" Edge grinned. "Wouldn't miss this reunion for the world."

"There will have been no point in rescuing the eidolons if we cannot save our home, too," said Rydia. "They're counting on me!"

"It's close," Golbez growled. "I can feel it…the one behind all of this is nearby. The hatred…the despair…its warping the very fabric of space-time itself."

"No more running away," Kain said. "Come what may…I'm ready."

Cecil pressed his lips together, lowering his head. Part of him wanted to scream that they were all insane – had they forgotten the terror that had taken hold when they had confronted Zemus? The suffering, the agony, the torment of walking that tightrope between life and death…yes, it was true they had all survived – but looking back on it all seventeen years later, it was now clear to Cecil that the five interlopers that set foot on the Red Moon were not the same champions that returned home – all of them had been changed in subtle, indistinct ways that had ultimately set them upon wildly different pathways in their lives – some for the better, but much, Cecil had decided, for the worse as well.

 _I still wonder…and I fear I always will in my darkest of nightmares…what would life had been like if we hadn't been swept into the war of the crystals? Would Kain and I had never needed to live our lives apart? Would Rosa have had to suffer at the hands of the enemy only because of her relationship with me? Would Rydia and Edge be orphans?_

 _Would I have been forced to mourn the loss of a family I had never known…?_

His eyes fell to his son, who was staring up at him anxiously with the same haunted eyes he had always despised seeing on himself as a young man. He had hated the unwanted stares of strangers, the way his innermost thoughts always seemed to broadcast themselves in the clear blue of his gaze, the obvious contrast of his foreign coloring against that of his adoptive guardian, King Baron – it was no mystery to anyone that Cecil wasn't really part of the royal family, but for every aspect of his looks to make it so damn obvious just made it seem like the universe was spitting in his face.

 _But when you were born, my son…those eyes no longer were just my own. Suddenly, they became the windows to a world that I could never imagine ever gazing upon with such despair, even in my darkest hours. The moment our eyes first met, Ceodore…I realized what true light was – and I saw it all within you._

 _Am I repeating a deplorable mistake, plunging you into the frontlines of war? Which of your beautiful futures will I sweep away with a wave of my hand by allowing you to stay…? I don't want you to ever have to question what could have been…despite what I know you feel deep inside, I never wanted you to live a life that mirrored mine._

 _No…I wanted precisely the opposite…I wanted you to be **free**._

Just as Cecil was about to speak, Ceodore shook his head, the boy staring his father dead in the eyes. "I'm going too. I have to see this through to the end. Not as a Red Wing, or a Lunarian, or the Prince of Baron – this goes beyond titles and bloodlines. Whoever is doing this to us…I want them to know from my lips the suffering they have wrought. I want them to look into my eyes and see the planet reflected back at them they intend to destroy – the world our people call home – humans, Lunarians, Eidolons… _all_ of us."

Cecil closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.

 _…But the other part of me?_

 _It's so grateful to have all of you by my side…even if it is the last time we're together like this, and the unthinkable happens…_

 _…I know I would leave this world with absolutely no regrets – no matter what my nightmares may show me._

"I thank you, everyone."

* * *

When Cecil stepped through the portal to the other side, he had of course no way of anticipating what could possibly be coming next – he attributed the permanent twisting feeling in his gut to general malaise about their overall situation, something he remembered feeling for the entirety of their journey through the Lunar Core as they chased Golbez and Fusoya to Zemus' lair.

But when he saw what was waiting for them, the knot in his stomach transformed into a ball of lead that promptly sank to his core, paralyzing him in place. Behind him, he could hear the collective gasps of the others, and felt someone slam into his stunned body when he had suddenly stopped in place.

They had come to a long hallway, flanked in tall, stainless steel columns that arose on each side that provided the only décor in what was an otherwise sterile environment. At its end, a door sat patiently, slightly ajar – as if someone had passed through in a hurry and hadn't taken care to pull it all the way shut. Waiting them on each side of the hall were dozens of copies of the mysterious girl, hundreds of amber headlamp eyes turned on Cecil as he drank them in in turn. They were all dressed identically to the girl they had fought in the previous chamber – silken waves of hair with not a lock out of place, the same gossamer gown that hung from their shoulders like an angel's robe, and the same glimmering ruby and silver jewels dripping from their ears and necks.

But despite the obvious acknowledgement that had ignited in each of the girls' eyes, none of them moved an inch – not even when the last of the party (Edge), had slipped through the portal, causing it to rapidly close behind the seven of them with an airy "pop".

Cecil's hand reached for his sword, but a pair of hands swiftly brushed over his sheath to block him, and Rydia slid up from behind, shaking her head quickly as she whispered.

"Please…wait! There's something…different about these ones."

Cecil nodded, dropping his hand. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Rydia had probably spent the most time out of all of them in the presence of the mysterious girl's usual brand of terrorism – although he had memories from his time as her puppet, none of them seemed to be distinctly of her – he remembered the voices of his friends, his own cruelty, and of course, the many, many nightmares. Rydia took a few steps forward, approaching the girl nearest to her right. The girl tilted her head as Rydia came over but said nothing. Rydia looked over her shoulder at the others, making a "now what?" face before turning back to the girl and affixing a small smile.

"Hello…I'm Rydia. Do you have a name?"

The girl dawdled a moment before saying anything – her eyelids were flicking so rapidly that for a moment, Rydia was worried she would keel over right then and there from a seizure – but as the seconds dragged on, the girl began to settle down, biting her lower lip as she affixed the glow of her amber eyes onto Rydia.

"I am a maenad..."

"We are _the Maenads_..." a chorus of voices suddenly added, the other girls all lifting their heads and staring straight at Rydia as they spoke. Rydia gulped, folding her fingers together to hide the shaking of her hands.

"I…I see…"

"What is a maenad?" Ceodore asked quietly. His voice had barely reached Rydia, but all of the girls had seemed to hear him – they lifted their chins in his direction and answered, once more, in unison.

"We are the most advanced form of life."

"Our will is as one..." the girl in front of Rydia trailed off, and as she pressed her fingers to her lips in thought, her fellow maenads followed suit, none of them breaking eye contact. "What one sees, we all bare witness..."

"What is your role in all of this?" Rosa asked, and the girl closest to her answered, her eyes fixing intensely on Rosa's.

"We must press forward to yet higher forms of evolution..."

"What _is_ our next mission?" another maenad asked confusedly.

"Where is the next crystal we must recover?" one piped up from the rear.

"Your mission is to recover crystals?" Cecil tried, but the girls had gone off on a tangent – they had started to chatter among themselves, the monotone of their identical voices filling the corridor to capacity. Rydia tried getting the maenad's attention that she was speaking with, but the girl merely asked Rydia what her next mission was over and over until Rydia gave up, backing away.

"Have they just been waiting here for someone to tell them what to do?" Kain asked. "Is there some kind of murder switch that needs turned on before they become full-blown psychopaths?"

"I don't know," Rydia shook her head. "But I'm inclined not to find out."

"Good idea," Golbez grunted. "While they're distracted, we should get out of here."

"Maybe they're placated because Rydia is here," Edge offered. "You look similar enough to be sisters."

"N-No way," Rydia stammered. "I don't see it."

"I have to say I agree with Edge," Cecil said. "One of my last clear memories before…well, everything, happened, was of Bahamut descending upon Baron and that girl leaping from his back. At first glance, I definitely thought she was Rydia."

"You guys are crazy," Rydia shook her head, pleadingly looking up at Golbez for help – she could have used a dose of his stoic rationalism right about now. But he merely arched one brow, giving her a shrug as if to say "I don't have a dog in this fight".

They proceeded through the corridor, the deadened stare of the maenads following them even as Cecil slowly slid the door to the exit open the rest of the way and slipped inside. Golbez brought up the rear, slamming and latching the door shut behind them for good measure.

"There. Now if they try to come after us, they'll at least be slowed down a little."

"Um…" Ceodore's tongue had turned to sandpaper as he turned to take in their new surroundings, a nervous spasm clenching his back "…Not sure we're any safer in here, either…"

The room before them was dimly lit – pale, glowing red lights could be seen hanging from the corners between tube-inlaid walls and exposed ceilings that had miles of chutes and other snaking monstrosities weaving through. The pockets of shadows in the spaces between each traffic jam of tech in the ceiling made Ceodore feel as if a vampire would swing down at them from any moment to snatch him away. Expanding across the corrugated, metal-plated floor were several rows of a dozen pods each that resembled the sleeping capsule they had settled Cecil into for their time on the Lunar Whale – slender steel and silver crates that resembled futuristic coffins, coils of wires extending out of each and intertwining over the floor. Some sank into the holes drilled inside the plates at their feet, while others disappeared inside the walls. Inside each pod, a bleary white light had been installed, barely illuminating that which was contained within – a sleeping maenad, transparent pink eyelids closed shut and each reclined against the head of the pod with a knowing smile on her lips. As in the prior corridor, all were dressed in the same white gown, adorned with the same jewels, and had identical features.

"What the hell is going on here?" Kain whispered. "Is this…where all of those girls came from?"

"There isn't a single empty pod," Edge mused, taking a stroll up and down the rows of bodies. "Do you think these are still cooking?"

"Edge!" Rydia gasped, narrowing her eyes. She couldn't articulate why, but his comment had struck her as ridiculously vulgar. These…these were still people, right? They had called themselves maenads, but they looked as human as she or him…

Golbez went in the opposite direction of Edge, combing the perimeter of the right-most pods and coming to a halt near the rear corner of the room as the whirl of glass gliding across metal suddenly filled the air.

"Cecil…I think you'd better see this."

Wordlessly, Cecil followed after Golbez, the others trailing behind him as their footsteps banged obnoxiously against the metal grates despite their best efforts to be quiet, making everyone cringe in anticipation of dozens of amber eyes suddenly snapping open and locking onto them. Upon reaching Golbez, Cecil had to stop himself from crying out in shock – one of the pods had slid open, and a little girl was stirring inside, her eyes fluttering open. Although she was undoubtedly a maenad – her oversized eyes, turquoise hair, and clothing gave it away immediately – developmentally, she was not nearly as advanced as her predecessors. In human years, she looked to only be six or seven years old. A quick glance up the row of pods she had been sleeping in confirmed that she was the only one of her kind – the rest of the maenads were adults, or at least had adult forms.

 _She looks just like Rydia when she was a child,_ Cecil marveled. _What is she doing here?_

The little girl unleashed a precious yawn that showed the full extent of her glistening white teeth. She then reached up, fumbling with a purple lacquer barrette that had slid down a stubborn lock of hair that was standing straight up in a cowlick. She eyed Golbez warily before switching her attention to Rydia, who had snuck up behind Cecil and froze in place when she saw the child. "Who are you?"

Rydia pointed to herself silently, and the girl gave a nod – _yes, I'm talking to_ you. Flushing, Rydia rested her hands at her side – she suddenly had no idea what to do with them as to not appear as a threat and could feel her fingers awkwardly drumming against her thighs. "I…er, my name is Rydia."

The girl hopped out of the pod effortlessly, her tiny bare feet smacking the floor as she meandered over to Rydia and stared up at her. She barely made it past Rydia's knees – she was no bigger than the size of one of Luca's dolls.

"Your orders, Rydia…"

"What!?" Rydia muttered, and the maenad continued to stare up at her expectantly, never blinking. Rosa leaned in, whispering in Rydia's ear.

"Maybe ask her to wait here? It's too dangerous to bring her along, don't you think?"

Rydia nodded, turning back to the child and forcing a smile. "Um…yes… Could you stay here and be a good girl?"

"You wish for me to remain here?" she parroted, and Rydia nodded quickly.

"Right. Can you be a good girl for us?"

Rydia held her breath as the maenad scrutinized her for a few more beats. Finally, she relaxed her stance ever-so-slightly, gesturing toward the door none of them had noticed was behind Golbez before turning to climb back into her pod. Silently, she pressed a switch near her hip, and the glass lid sprung over her body, ensconcing her safely inside. But instead of closing her eyes to go back to sleep, she kept staring toward the door, her mouth set in a straight line of baby pink.

"I think she wants us to go in there," Ceodore said. "…Should we do it?"

"We haven't much choice," Kain frowned. "This looks to be the only way out."

Golbez unlatched the door, deciding nothing further needed to be said, and disappeared through the threshold. Ceodore scrambled after him, with Cecil, Kain and Rosa following. Rydia didn't realize she was still staring at the girl until Edge gently took her arm, pulling her away.

"It's going to be OK. She's safe here."

"I…" Rydia shook her head, pressing her hand to her cheek as she let Edge steer her out of the lab. She felt as if the contents of her brain had been wrung out like a sponge and plopped back into her skull, leaving her lightheaded and floaty. _What the hell had they just stumbled upon?_ "…I guess I can see the resemblance _a little_."

"We need a light," Rydia and Edge heard Cecil say as they came up behind him in the new room, which was pitch-black, even with the minute spill of red light that was bleeding in from the lab. A few seconds later, Ceodore's blade emerged in the air like a banner, beads of holy essence coursing through the adamantite like tiny comets. In moments, Cecil's blade joined his son's, the pale pink curve of his sword glowing like a summer sunset as sprays of ultraviolet orbitals fell through the air like dew, exploding upon contact with the ground beneath and fading into dusk.

The light of their blades had illuminated a haunting backdrop before them. Scattered in every direction, as far as their eyes could manage to see in the meager effulgence made available, were daises carved out of pure white marble, each topped with a floating crystal that was silently spinning in place, all light extinguished. There appeared to be no ceiling – instead, they were left vulnerable beneath the velvety depths of space, a spread of pure obsidian that allowed no trace of starlight to penetrate. If there were walls that contained them, they were still too far out to see – and they could hear nothing other than their own trembling breath expelling from their lungs.

"Where are we?" Rosa stared in wonder as she approached one of the daises, the heels of her sandals clicking against the marbled steps like the ticking of a grandfather clock. She gingerly reached out, stroking the pale yellow, lusterless crystal before her. There came no reaction, nor was a trap sprung – she pulled her hand back, marveling at the trace of chill the crystal had left on her fingertips.

"It's a crystal graveyard," Golbez frowned. "There's got to be hundreds of them here – all robbed of their light, if they ever had any in the first place."

"Could our crystals be here, too?" Ceodore blinked. "Maybe this is where the maenads take them – it could explain why there are so many of those girls around."

"That's an intriguing thought," Kain tapped his fingers against his arm. "But…it's going to take hours to search this place. Hours we don't have."

"We have to search for an exit, anyway," Rydia offered. "We must get our crystals back if we have any hope of restoring our planet – it wouldn't hurt to look along the way. If we split up, I think it would go faster."

"What should our signal be if we find one?" Rosa hopped down from the dais she had climbed. "Should we shoot off a spell in the air?"

"That should be sufficient," Golbez agreed, turning on his heel. "Best get to work, then."

* * *

Cecil was investigating his tenth crystal when the first signal ignited in the air. The distance was too great, and the darkness too permeating for him to see where it had come from or who was behind it – but the spell that had been unleashed appeared to be a firework of gold and blue sparks that resembled a Cure spell.

 _It's Rosa, Ceodore or Kain,_ Cecil thought to himself, smiling. _Maybe Ceodore was onto something after all…!_ He carefully set his sword down upon the dais, using the blade's light to guide him as he took hold of the cobalt blue crystal before him and turned it over in his hands. But after only a few seconds, he could tell right away it was not one of theirs – while it certainly resembled Mysidia's Crystal of Water, the shape and weight just weren't right. Cecil would never forget the feel of the crystal against his fingers – not since the day he had stolen it from the Mysidians seventeen years prior and as Captain of the Red Wings, had ordered his crew to slaughter all those who got in the way of their thievery.

 _Even now, I still wonder, how many lives I destroyed that misty summer morning…the seaside fog had yet to burn off from the Mysidian shores when we made our landing – that just might have bought us the time we needed to get a jump on the Elder and those hiding the crystal in the Tower of Prayer. We thought the gods were on Baron's side that fateful day… None of us had any idea that we were being manipulated by a madman on the Red Moon._

Cecil heard the familiar pad of bare-footed steps and spun around to find Golbez staring up at him from the base of the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Golbez..." Cecil trailed off, releasing the crystal. It floated gently back into place as if it had never been disturbed at all.

"Cecil," Golbez nodded. "No luck?"

Cecil shook his head, bending down to retrieve his sword while his heart hammered relentlessly inside his chest. A million different things he had wanted to say to Golbez ever since he had awoken were rushing to the forefront of his mind, trying to shove their way through to his mouth in a dizzying maelstrom. Just as Golbez turned on his heel to continue his search, Cecil stumbled down the first few steps of the dais, shouting breathlessly into the void of darkness that had fallen between them.

"I...I am glad to see you back."

Golbez paused, and Cecil could see his hunched shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as he slowly pivoted to face him once more. Some of his dark silver hair had fallen in his face, obscuring his right eye. "And the same to you, as well."

Cecil took the next couple of steps down hesitantly, like one might do if they were luring a lost pet in the streets in an effort to not spook it. He could feel his throat clenching as he tried to find the right words – he hadn't yet come up with them in the seventeen years they had been apart – certainly he was fooling himself by thinking he would be able to now.

 _Tell him…tell him everything…before it's too late again._

"I…cannot say for sure what our enemy was doing to my mind. But within my heart...it was as if the light was slowly fading away from me, deep inside."

Golbez stared up at him, saying nothing. Cecil finally closed the distance between them, jumping down the last few steps. On level ground, it was now he who needed to crane his neck up to make eye contact with his brother.

"I felt so isolated. I was inside a world of profound darkness... However, I still had faith...faith that Rosa and Ceodore, and my friends would come to my aid... But I must admit, I certainly did not expect you to be among my saviors – even though I prayed that I would hear your voice the very morning I…I turned. Every night there was a full moon…I prayed then, too. Ever since we came home seventeen years ago..."

"Cecil..." Golbez trailed off, willing himself with everything he had not to turn and flee – a survival instinct he had been honing when it came to dealing with his little brother since the day they had made the gruesome discovery they were related. "…I heard your prayers…but I always thought they were just dreams…or in my case, usually nightmares. I'm so sorry…I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

Cecil shook his head. "No – all that matters is that you came when you did. So...thank you, my brother."

Golbez averted his eyes, sighing. "If you need to thank someone, thank Fusoya."

"What?" Cecil sheathed his blade, plunging the two of them into darkness.

"It was he who sent me to you...putting his own body on the line in the process."

"Fusoya did that!?"

"He did."

"So, it was Fusoya that sent you back…" Cecil covered his hand with his mouth, trying to mask the pitch of his voice – he didn't like what Golbez seemed to be implying. "…And he didn't come with you."

Golbez eyed Cecil warily. It skeeved him out that even after all the hell he had been through these past few days and despite how desperate he had been to walk the path of light, if only to save his brother – he still felt safest under the cover of darkness. He wondered if Cecil had purposely extinguished the light of his sword so that he wouldn't turn tail and flee. Even so, Cecil deserved the truth – all of it. He needed little to convince himself of that much.

"Yes. Fusoya…I can't say what his fate may be in all of this – I suspect sending me here to find you was part of his plan all along – maybe even since the day we went into stasis, if your theory about the ninth crystal is correct. But I promise you, Cecil – I had also had enough of hiding. Your voice was the last one I heard before I woke up."

"Oh?" Cecil crossed his arms.

"Indeed."

"So, you are no longer ashamed of your name, _Golbez_?"

"No," he shook his head. "I have to live up to my sins...and myself. I told your son Theodor died a long time ago – and I truly meant it. But…that doesn't mean I can't try to be the man Theodor might have become if fate had been kinder. I can't turn back time...but I have this day. And if I'm lucky, I will have a tomorrow. And if I'm really lucky, a tomorrow after that one. I know now that I can't just go to sleep and wake up to find everything I've broken, fixed – all I can do is repent one a day at a time."

"My son," Cecil smiled slightly, "…Is your nephew, you know. _Golbez's_ nephew - your blood. I hope that someday…you'll be able to think of him as such."

"I care for Ceodore," Golbez said softly. "But I feel it would be too much to ask of him to think of me as anyone more than a distant acquaintance. His heart is rife with confusion, Cecil – that much I can sense. You have to remember the turbulence you felt when you discovered who you truly were – and multiply that twice over for the boy. He's young, and life at his age is hard enough for anyone – let alone a prince and the blood relation of a terrorist."

"I get it," Cecil sighed, looking away. "I suppose that's some perspective I've been lacking throughout this ordeal. I do appreciate your honesty..."

Golbez shook his head. "Enough of this for now. We must continue our search for the crystals."

"You're right," Cecil nodded. As the words left his lips, a spell lit up the sky – another Cure spell, it looked like. But this one had come in the complete opposite direction of the first – Cecil guessed that it would have only been a few rows of daises away if that. Moments later, another spell detonated from a lower left quadrant – this one a tower of flames igniting the sky.

"I'll head this way," Golbez quickly volunteered, bolting in the direction of the fire spell before Cecil could say another word. He retrieved his sword, deciding to check on the nearby victor before continuing on. He saw a flash of green and white suddenly streak across the expanse of space before him, and lifted his blade higher, only to see Kain leaping from one dais to the next, a ruby-stained crystal tucked under his arm. Cecil picked up his speed, calling out to Kain before he leapt to the next dais and out of sight.

"Cecil?" Kain whirled around, nearly dropping the crystal he had retrieved in surprise.

"Sorry if I scared you," Cecil huffed as he came to the foot of the dais, doubling over momentarily as he clutched his cramping side. "…Wow, I am really out of shape."

"That's what sitting your arse on a throne all day will do to you," Kain smirked, reaching to inspect the crystal. When he realized it was a dud, he turned back to Cecil, tilting his head to the right. "Let's go that way."

Cecil fell into step behind him as they silently investigated each dais they came across, giving each other a quick head shake after each one before moving on to the next. When they had finished sweeping the quadrant, Kain shrugged, plopping down onto the ground.

"OK…so I might be getting a little winded too. Want to stop for a break?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Cecil smiled, sitting down next to him and leaning back against the cool marble of the dais. They both turned toward the unblinking sky above, hands behind their heads as the distant scuffles of the rest of their party echoed around them. Closing his eyes, Kain let out a low sigh.

"It has been a while since it was just you and I, huh? Other than the terrifying feeling of being hurled through space on a death trap, this reminds me of those nights where we'd stay up all night after our missions and would wake up the next morning not remembering a thing – ever since we arrived, everything's been happening in a blur."

"It certainly has," Cecil chuckled, although his laughter died quickly as reality set back in. "I'm sorry..."

"About what?" Kain still didn't open his eyes. Cecil pulled his legs against his chest, pressing his forehead to his knees as he took a deep breath.

"I lost control of myself...and look what it has caused. If it wasn't for me…you wouldn't have to be here right now, Kain."

Kain shifted slightly, not saying anything. Cecil took that as an invitation to continue, although he wasn't sure if Kain could even hear him while he was moaning against his legs. "…If you hadn't come down from that mountain, I would have been lost."

"Quit it," Kain grunted.

"In fact...without you, Ceodore and Rosa would have both been beyond rescue by now."

Kain leaned over, semi-seriously smacking Cecil upside the head. Cecil's face shot up, his glare meeting Kain's as he pressed in closer. "Why do you have to blame yourself for everything? I wasn't doing it just for you, you understand."

"Huh?"

"Baron is my motherland... It always has been, and it always will be."

"True enough," Cecil relented. "But even so…"

"And I have been away from it for far too long."

"But now you are back – right?"

"Yes," Kain affirmed. "Until my dying breath…if I should be so lucky. Only if the monarchy will have me back, I should say."

Cecil shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Please…like a detail as minor as that would stop you."

"Heh, you're right," Kain grinned, sitting back. "But from what I've heard, you seem to be doing a decent enough job. It would be tough to overthrow you anyway."

Cecil tilted his head, not being able to help but smile in response to Kain's infectious smirk. "It would be Ceodore you'd have to fight for the throne – not me. What do you think of him?"

Kain's cheerfulness suddenly faded into a sober veil, and Cecil felt his heart drop into his stomach as Kain's gaze darted away from him, returning to the sky. Was Kain going to tell him something terrible? For some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, the thought of Kain disliking Ceodore made his heart ache – maybe it was because in another life, he had hoped Kain would have been more involved in the lives of their children from the beginning – Cecil had always wanted to do the same for him, too. Kain and Rosa had been the family he had never had – until, well, he found Golbez.

Kain crossed one leg over his knee, gently swinging his foot. "He has talent...in terms of both combat and magic, there is a lot there to be nurtured. He has good instincts for people, too – I daresay he's every bit as earnest as you are."

"Is he?" Cecil smiled, relief flooding his senses. Kain nodded.

"When all of this is over…will you be asking Ceodore to train as a paladin? Now that he's a Red Wing, that would be the natural progression of his talents."

"Ah, well..." Cecil gave a half-shrug. "The truth is, Ceodore has never shown much interest in such a pursuit. It was a surprise to Rosa and me that he had even tried out for the Red Wings. It's not that I ever doubted his ability – perhaps I was taken aback by his will. I always told myself that I would never push becoming a paladin upon Ceodore and wait for him to come to me if it was something he wanted to do. I don't know if that was the right approach, but…"

"Ceodore will become a fine king one day, whether or not he is a paladin," Kain said. "The tools that forge great leaders are not borne from titles and wars won – everything that is most important lies here." He pressed his fingers to his chest. "So yes – I think you did the right thing. I know that a boy as lucky as he to have you as his father will have the strength of heart to overcome any challenge he may face. I suppose that stubborn streak of his comes from Rosa, though – there is little doubt who his mother is!"

"Hah…Perhaps." Cecil closed his eyes, enjoying the soothing chill of the marble against his scalp. For just a moment, his tightly-wound nerves relented and allowed him to conjure a peaceful memory from when he was Ceodore's age. It had been a rare night off for both he and Kain – before he had joined the Red Wings, and when Kain was still just a squire among the Dragoons whom had not yet rocketed to superstardom. They had decided it would be a great idea to sneak out of the castle for the night and camp in the southern woods. After a night of foolish pranks and dares, including an embarrassing wild chocobo riding contest that resulted in the loser (Cecil) getting a hastily pierced ear courtesy of Kain and a Cactuar needle – the two of them had forgone their tent to sleep under the stars.

* * *

 _Baron, 22 years prior_

Cecil remembered the light of the full twin moons managing to pierce even the densest of the forest's trees, leaving funny streaky shadows on Kain as he rolled over to finally get some sleep. Kain had been getting quieter and quieter after he had managed to pin Cecil down long enough to pierce him and had patiently, but silently mopped up the blood while Cecil wailed like an infant through the pain. Thinking he had perhaps made Kain feel bad for his being so sour about the bet _he_ had agreed upon, Cecil shyly opened his eyes, flopping back over to see if Kain was still awake.

"What's up?" Kain asked before Cecil could even breathe a word. His back was turned to Cecil, shoulder-length corn silk hair splayed in a puddle of moonlight that turned it into a brilliant platinum. Cecil idly mused that he and Kain could have been twins – but only in a world where the moons shone with such brilliance twenty-four seven. Oh, and if Cecil also managed to grow about a foot taller.

"Ah…just wanted to say sorry about giving you so much trouble about the bet. It didn't hurt _that_ bad, so…please forget all of my incessant whining tonight." His ear throbbed as he choked out that last sentence, reminding him what a terrible liar he was.

Kain shifted, his narrowed eyes peering at Cecil from over his shoulder. "And tell me why one would feel compelled to apologize about something as ridiculous as feeling pain?"

"Um…!" Cecil blinked, not expecting to answer a question like that. But he knew Kain wouldn't let it go until he said something – so he let the first thought that fluttered into his mind fly out of his mouth.

"You're my only friend – well, besides Rosa, that is – that I care about being annoyed with me. You got quiet after the bet, so…I thought maybe I had done something to make you mad. And I just…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "…I don't know."

"I'm not mad," Kain said, finally shifting onto his side so that he could face Cecil directly. Even though he had a small smile on his lips, his eyes were still cold, distant. "I just realized something that took me by surprise, and it shook me a little, I suppose."

"What?" Cecil sat up worriedly. "Do we have to go back to the castle?"

"No, no," Kain shook his head, smiling more. "I just forgot what day it was."

 _What day it was?_ Cecil chewed his lip, and you could see the wheels turning in his head behind his wide, cerulean eyes. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out what Kain could possibly be referring to. Kain amused himself for a few moments by watching Cecil dither about before finally breaking the silence.

"It's the anniversary of my father's death. For the first time since it happened…I totally forgot."

"…Oh, Kain…" Cecil stared down at the smashed grass where their bodies had been. "I'm really sorry…"

"Don't be," Kain shook his head quickly. "It's a _good_ thing, Cecil. It means I'm finally moving on, and not obsessing over what happened with every waking minute. I was able to forget because I was so excited to just be with you today and just do something _normal_."

"W…What!?" Cecil felt his cheeks turn pink. "You call torturing your best friend normal!? What kind of psycho are you?"

"Heh…" Kain winked. "You should ask what that says about _you_ if you call someone like _me_ your best friend." Cecil snorted out a laugh, smashing his fist into Kain's arm. But even that small effort made his ear shoot into a frenzy of pain, and he let a small scream escape as he fell back, cradling the side of his face.

"Ow…"

"Uh…" Kain blanched at the sight of Cecil trembling before him. "You actually don't look very well – maybe we should get you back."

"No!" Cecil half-laughed, half-moaned as he made a show of sliding back down into the grass. "If I sleep on my other side, it will be just fine. But…you'll check on me to make sure I'm breathing later, right?"

Kain laughed airily, flopping down alongside Cecil and shoving his foot into his back.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll make sure you don't drop dead."

"I'm serious," Cecil muttered. "I'm counting on you, Kain."

"I'm being serious, too! I'm not going to let my best friend down!"

"…Thank you…"

* * *

Kain felt his chest clench when he looked over at Cecil after several beats of silence and saw that his eyes were closed, his alabaster skin reflecting the pale marble of the dais, wearing the same small smile he had occasionally sported while in a coma. He leaned in, gently shaking Cecil's shoulder, not able to control the tremble in his voice.

"Cecil…!"

"Mmmm…" he felt Cecil stir beneath his hand and pulled back, trying not to laugh out of relief – he had merely fallen asleep. _Of course…how could I forget Cecil's uncanny ability to sleep most anywhere?_ He watched as an explosion of magic suddenly lit up the sky – a Thunder spell, if he was placing it correctly. _Another crystal found…we're officially half-way there. I guess I could let Cecil rest a little while longer…I know after I awoke from being under Golbez and Zemus's thrall, I was exhausted from losing control over my body – I had to learn how to function all over again. I'm sure it must be much of the same for him after breaking free from the wretched girl._

 _There was so much more I wanted to tell you, but…for now, I'll just have to hope that that we'll have another tomorrow together._

"...We have to stop this moon," Kain sighed to himself as he stood up. He figured he could explore the daises surrounding Cecil with relative ease while still being able to keep an eye on him. Cecil's head slid down the marble slightly, the glimmer of a pearl earring winking beneath the spill of his hair.

"I'll be counting on you, Kain," he murmured in his sleep. Kain turned to face him, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat as he watched the hypnotic rise and fall of Cecil's breath in his chest.

"…And I will not let you down."

* * *

The last person in their group to locate a crystal was Golbez. After igniting a final Fire spell to announce his find, the others gathered to him from across the graveyard, laying their finds in a row on the ground so everyone could investigate.

"I see you found the most," Edge said dryly as Golbez set down three crystals – two Crystals of Darkness and the Crystal of Earth. Golbez met Edge's stare with a smirk, noticing that he had come back empty-handed.

"Well, I do have a nose for such things."

"Awkward," Ceodore muttered, relinquishing the Crystal of Wind. It was followed by Rosa's Crystal of Water, Kain's Crystal of Fire, and Cecil and Rydia's Crystals of Darkness.

"These are all definitely our planet's crystals," Cecil sighed, picking up each one. As he did, a faint glow would emanate from the very depths of the crystal's core, only to die as soon as he set it back down. "But they're just like the rest…their light has been vanquished. Is this the work of the maenads?"

"Perhaps so. But what do they do with them to rob them of their light?" Rosa shook her head. "What's the purpose of this madness?"

"That's the million-gil question," Kain shrugged. "And here's another: Did anyone manage to find an exit in their wanderings?"

His query was met with silence.

"Damn," Edge breathed. "I don't want to die in a creepy place like this. Surely this isn't the last stop?"

"That little girl from the lab might know where to go next to restore the light to the crystals," Rydia said slowly. "If we, er…gave her orders to tell us…do you think she would?"

"It's worth a shot," Cecil nodded. "I think some of us should stay here and guard the crystals, and the rest can see the girl. I'm worried about what might happen if we bring these into the lab – what if the other maenads wake up and lose it?"

"I'll stay with the crystals," Ceodore offered, nodding toward his sword, which he was still using as a torch in the suffocating darkness of the graveyard. "If I walk another step, I think I'll keel over. I just need a short rest."

"I'll join Ceodore," Golbez said. "The rest of you can see to the girl."

Edge shot Cecil a not-so-subtle look that screamed "Are you seriously going to let this happen!?". Cecil mutely shook his head, holding up a hand in warning for Edge not to start anything. Golbez turned away from Edge, his mouth twisting as he drummed his fingers over his forearm.

"Very well," Cecil said, turning on his heel and gesturing for Edge and the others to follow him. "Let's go."

 _I have to trust Golbez…he said he wanted to fix this. His contrition rang true when we spoke. If I can't believe in him…how can I possibly expect the rift in our family to ever heal?_

Ceodore watched as his parents and the others were absorbed into the darkness, not allowing himself to sit until their footsteps had faded away. Golbez took his position across from Ceodore, pressing his back up against the dais from which he had relieved the final crystal.

 _Phew…_ Ceodore cradled his head in his hands, relishing the feeling of his eyelids shutting out the light of his blade as he closed his eyes. He was so tired that he didn't bother giving the idea of Golbez being his babysitter a second thought – although he had caught the soul-wrenching glare Edge had served up to his father before they had left. It both comforted and disturbed him that there was still someone in his father's inner circle beside himself that still wasn't quite sure what to make of Golbez's renewed presence in their lives.

 _If I can even just get a few moments of sleep…I think I'll feel much better. My fever is back…my head is killing me…ever since I found the Crystal of Wind, my limbs have felt like there are chains weighing them down…_

 _And I still need to tell Father about that dream…_

 _I'll make do it when he comes back….just a small nap, first._

* * *

 _Darkness…_

 _Light…_

 _In the end, none of it matters…_

 _I will save you from this agony…that which comes from each breath leading you closer still to death…_

 _Come…I will show you true eternity – the crux of your evolution begins now._

Ceodore's eyes snapped open as a menacing pain shot across his forehead. A flash of red bled into his vision, and he fell forward, his face smashing into one of the crystals and ushering forth a gush of blood from his nose.

 _My head…it feels like it's being split in two! Why!?_

"Golbez…" Ceodore whimpered, the metallic tinge of his blood mixing with crystal dust drowning his tongue in brackish grit. He could no longer feel the rest of his body – from the neck down, a numbing paralysis had taken hold of his muscles, turning them into slabs of ice. "Help…"

But there came no reply – Ceodore lifted his half-closed eyes, his vision a swirling blur of red bleeding into black as he tried to spot Golbez. He could have sworn that just a few minutes ago, he was standing right there – had he imagined it all? Where did everyone go?

As the blood steadily dripped from Ceodore's face onto the crystals below, he noticed for the first time that they had been arranged in a circle and had all begun to glow with a faint light that faded in and out with the rhythm of Ceodore's heart. Etchings of blue raced across the cracks in the moonscape, igniting into a magic circle that looked suspiciously like the runes inlaid on the crystal plate that had led them to the Dark Knight's hiding place.

 _No…_ Ceodore clenched his eyes shut, a dry wail escaping his throat as he felt his numbed limbs suddenly start to stir – his hands were digging into the ground to steady himself in preparation to stand – but he wasn't the one issuing the command to his body. _Stop…!_

* * *

Golbez grunted as ripped his sword out of the velveteen coat of the Behemoth, a spray of blood streaking his feet as the monster flopped over on its side and began to dissolve into milky-colored ash. Exhaling sharply, Golbez sheathed his weapon and swiped the sweat-matted hair out of his face.

The Behemoth had come from seemingly nowhere – one moment, Golbez had been watching Ceodore drift off to sleep, and the next, he had felt the unmistakable chill of impending danger entangle itself around his neck, setting his hair on-end. Someone – or something – was watching them – and a stealthy cut of his eye over his shoulder had confirmed as such – the creature was crouched just a dais away, fangs glimmering with saliva as it prepared to make its strike. Golbez had launched himself over the empty crystal dais, his sword withdrawn by the time he had landed, and blew the Behemoth away with a Bio spell to knock it a greater distance from the slumbering prince. In just a few moments, the battle ended when Golbez had managed to stun the monster with a Stop spell and impale him from behind, plunging his ebony blade into its muscled chest cavity until he felt the shudder of its heart bursting within.

A wicked blaze of light suddenly washed over Golbez from behind, blowing a rush of hot hair over the graveyard. As he turned, he spotted Ceodore staring confusedly at a rune that had blossomed at the center of the crystals, his eyes black pits as he took a few stumbling steps forward.

"Ceodore!" Golbez called, his heart leaping into his throat. "WAIT!"

But it was too late – Ceodore's eyes flickered in recognizance of Golbez's voice just as he stepped upon the rune, another wave of light tearing through the graveyard that swallowed him whole.

His body disappeared through the center of the rune, remnants of starlight tumbling through the air where he had been standing just seconds before.

* * *

Rydia's hand grasped the door handle that would take them back to the little girl when the first assault of luminescence hit. Cecil and Kain pivoted around, each lifting their shields as the untamable gales slammed into them, and Edge wrapped himself into his cloak, the smoldering wind absorbing into his body harmlessly.

"Where is it coming from!?" Rydia cried, and Kain wordlessly pointed due north. A column of twisting blue light had erupted that pierced the sky – one that looked disturbingly familiar to the dragoon as he recalled the night he had found Ceodore half-dead in the meadowlands beyond Mysidia's borders.

"We have to go back!" Rosa shrieked, shoving past Cecil and Kain before either one could reach out and grab her. Cecil lowered his shield, and Kain cursed under his breath, taking off after her into the beckoning black. His hands shaking, Cecil quickly sheathed his blade and gestured for Rydia and Edge to follow him.

The second influx of light hit, and Cecil could see Rosa and Kain's shadows darting between the daises, the crystals floating all around them temporarily ablaze with brilliance and projecting dizzying rainbow prisms over the landscape. A sloping figure was bolting toward the column of light from the opposite direction, screaming something Cecil couldn't comprehend over the roar of the wind. He urged his legs to carry him faster, tears stinging the corners of his eyes from the relentless burn of his breath churning in and out of his oxygen-starved lungs.

When he had managed to catch up to Rosa and Kain, Cecil could now see the figure bending down to pick something up. The indisputable glint of adamantite reflected off the light, and Cecil realized it was Excalibur – but its owner was nowhere to be seen. As the column of light began to fade and pool into a crudely-etched rune into the ground, Cecil saw Golbez sling Excalibur over his back, his cloak fluttering as he leapt onto the rune.

"WAIT!" Cecil cried, extending his hand. But Golbez disappeared seconds later, another pillar of light shooting into the endless sky above them as he was carried away into space.

"Ceodore!" Rosa wailed, skidding to a stop when she reached the rune and immediately spotting the crystal among the circle that was covered in blood. She sniffled as she picked it up, turning it over in her fingers for any sign of foul play. Cecil collapsed down beside her, and she shakily handed him the crystal, her eyes spilling over and her lips quivering.

The bloodied crystal was the Crystal of Water. Cecil clenched his jaw as he felt the jewel's meager warmth fill his hands, a drop of blood sliding down its face and splashing onto Cecil's armor.

 _This is Ceodore's blood...of that I have no doubt._

"What the hell is going on?" Edge gasped, coming up from the rear where he had been carrying Rydia on his back. She hopped down, her hand clutching for her whip.

"We have to move! I saw a herd of Behemoths trampling through this way – they're pouring into this place like a flood!"

"Damnation!" Kain growled, bending down and starting to scoop crystals into his arms. "We've got no other choice – to the rune! We have to chase after Golbez and find Ceodore!"

The others quickly scrambled to grab a few crystals of their own, until all eight had been accounted for. Cecil pulled Rosa to her feet, shoving her into the rune with him as the foreign, ancient carvings tracing the parameter began to pulse at their feet. She pressed her head to his chest, securing her crystal between the two of them as he embraced her with all of his strength, burying his lips in her hair. The ground disappeared beneath them, and they were falling, falling, falling away into nothingness.

* * *

 _To be continued in The Final Tale: Somnus_


	37. Act Thirty-Seven: The Final Tale

Act Thirty-Seven: The Final Tale | Somnus

"Ceodore!" Cecil screamed, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Where are you!?" It felt like the hundredth time he had shouted his son's name in the span of minutes – his throat was becoming raw, and he could taste the spray of blood droplets on his tongue – but even so, he pushed himself forward, calling out over and over again.

 _Ceodore…please, answer me! You have to be alive…WHERE ARE YOU?!_

They were tearing through a winding white glass path that erupted in a riot of colors as they stepped over each tile – pinks, purples, blues, greens, yellows – towering stalks of crystal branching over their heads in a makeshift arch that spanned in glistening layers far into the horizon. The surrounding sky was pitch-black, same as the crystal graveyard – but Cecil could see satellites of light glimmering tantalizingly in the distance, and the path lights at their feet were bright enough to keep themselves from tumbling over a ledge.

Edge had sprinted ahead, climbing up the crystal arches and running above the others so that he could get an aerial view of their surroundings. With a final leap, he soared back to the ground, tumbling to a stop near a transparent glass staircase that stretched to the heavens. At the foot of the stairs, and on a few of the ascending steps, he spotted specks of blood – still glossy and wet.

"Over here!" Edge called behind him to no one in particular, blanching as he swiped some of the blood with his fingers and brought it to his nose to take a sniff. _Ugh, yes – definitely fresh_.

Kain was the first to arrive, his eyes immediately darting to the blood before Edge could say anything.

"This doesn't look good."

"Yeah, Captain Obvious," Edge deadpanned. "I _knew_ we shouldn't have left Ceodore _or_ the crystals with Golbez."

"You honestly think Golbez was behind this?" Kain rested a hand on his hip. "Wouldn't he have taken the crystals along on his little heist if he had any grand plans to screw us over?"

"I don't know!" Edge snapped. "I…Argh, I should have said something! Or stayed behind! It just didn't smell right!"

"Well, you didn't," Kain glared, even though he was thinking the same exact thing – wasn't there _something_ they could have done to prevent this? "So, shut up already."

"I don't want to hear anything from you!" Edge hissed. "You're still on my list for all the backstabbing stunts you've pulled – so don't act like you're any better than Golbez!" Kain's jaw dropped, and Edge responded with a double-fisted one-finger salute.

"Stop it, both of you!" Rydia gasped, panting for breath as she barreled up to them. "I could hear you arguing my entire way here! If either of you do anything to make this worse for Cecil or Rosa…I will never forgive you!" She then noticed the blood spill behind Edge and felt her knees buckle, the fiery energy behind her threat rushing out of her like a punch to the gut.

"Oh, no…"

"Ceodore!" Rosa's voice drifted over to them, fragile as china. "Golbez…!"

Rydia shook her head, snapping back to her old self and turning her attention back to the two men. "I mean it – no more fighting!" She proceeded up the stairs, glaring at them once more for good measure over her shoulder. "I'm going to check things out up here."

"Sorry," Edge muttered, and Kain rolled his eyes, turning away. And thus, another temporary truce was begrudgingly born – about seventeen years too late, it seemed.

A little while later, both Rosa and Cecil made their way to the foot of the stairs, with nothing to show for their search except shortened breath and bloodshot eyes from taking no breaks to blink. Rosa shrieked when Kain pointed out the blood, tears streaking down her cheeks, and Cecil felt like he was spinning in place – his mind wouldn't stop churning out every possible nightmare scenario they could be walking into, each more terrifying than the last.

A scream erupted from the top of the stairs, startling the four of them out of their self-pitying stupor.

"That's Rydia," Edge gasped, turning to gallop his way up the landing. Cecil, Rosa and Kain followed close behind, never letting up on their pace even as their collective knees ached in protest.

After several minutes of climbing, gasping, and wheezing, they finally reached the top, arriving on another level of light-up floors that were sporadically damaged and cracked from green and silver plant-like metallic orbs that were shooting up from the tiles. Some were only as tall as Cecil's knee, while others towered over Kain. The lights that Cecil had spotted from below were floating all around them on rectangular mechanical wreckage – they appeared to be sheets of steel that were bolted together carelessly and unevenly, more of the odd green and silver orbs springing from the tops where the lights were installed.

Ahead of them, Rydia was collapsed on her knees, staring in horror at what was hovering between the remainder of the light boxes and the ledge of the very sudden drop-off in the floor. A grotesque mass of cobalt blue tentacles was writhing out of a floating island of alloy and wire, some of them perforated with rows of holes that ejected steam in clockwork bursts, some others twisted together and ribbed until they came to a sharpened point, and others that appeared to be in the process of splitting in two – they started off thick and course at the base of the mass, eventually branching off into slender, twitching weaves that were drenched with oil and the gods knew what else trailing between the separate ends in a giant, sloping trail of mucous.

In the center of the mass, a pulsing ladder of blue lights rested, coils of tentacles and wires weaving in the spaces between each light. And hanging in mid-air on each side of the ladder, entangled in a slimy feeler that was pulsing with blinking red lights that moved in time with the central mass, were Ceodore and Golbez. Both of them were passed out – heads slumped forward and bodies unmoving with the exception of the occasional muscular twitch of the respective feeler that held them captive.

"Oh, my gods," the blood drained from Cecil's face as he rushed to the ledge to get a closer look. Rosa clasped her hands to her mouth, stunned into silence, and Kain and Edge both kneeled before Rydia, urging her to get back up all the while their eyes glued to the abomination before them. Up close, Cecil could hear the bizarre mix of scraping metal and sickening sucking noises as the tentacles slithered about, and desperately called out to Ceodore, who was hanging directly out of reach above him. The boy didn't stir – his white face remained expressionless as the tentacle suddenly changed course and yanked him further out of the way, his limbs swinging carelessly like a marionette's.

"The eidolons…" Rydia squeezed her eyes shut as Kain and Edge hauled her to her feet, gasping for breath. "…They are warning us!"

"Well of course! L-Look at that thing! It's huge!" Edge gulped.

"What is this?" Rosa whimpered. "What is it doing with Ceodore and Golbez?"

Kain shook his head. "There's got to be a way to cut them down."

"Maybe there's something inside!" Cecil cried. He withdrew his sword, pointing toward the vulnerable pockets in the center of the ladder where the wires were feeding through. "If we can get in…maybe we can find a way to force it to release them."

"I can help with that," Edge winked as he reached for his belt. "Nothing some exploding shurikens can't fix."

"Be careful, I beg of you," Rosa whimpered. "One wrong move, and they'll fall into the depths and be lost forever!"

"Don't worry," Edge retrieved a set of three stars, fanning them between his fingers and gritting his teeth as he took aim. "I throw these at Tsukinowa's head all the time, and as you can see – he's still in one piece."

Cecil ducked out of the way and Rosa covered her eyes as Edge tossed the stars, each one embedding into the ladder in the shape of a perfect triangle. A series of warning beeps jingled before they exploded, sending shrapnel and busted wires everywhere and exposing a gaping pit with dozens of pale pink, miniature tentacles twitching along the perimeter angrily. Cecil heard a nauseating pop and a hiss, the mini tentacles excreting a thin white film that stretched over the vulnerable opening and promptly sealed it back up.

"What…the hell!?" Edge balked. "It's got a self-defense system?"

"We have to kill the tentacles inside," Cecil ordered. "Once those are gone – no more shield!"

"Let me try," Rydia frowned, stepping forward and raising her hand. "Firaga!"

A cluster of flames ran up the perimeter of the film, gathering in its center and cumulating in an explosion that nearly rocked the tentacle ball off its axis. Rosa gasped behind her hand as both Ceodore and Golbez were throttled about violently – however, the tentacles held firm, and neither of them slipped away. Peering through the smoke that was barreling out of the core, Cecil could see that all of the pink tentacles had been fried in the explosion, withered up into black scabs that now hung precariously from the entrance.

"That did it!" Cecil exclaimed. "Nice job, Rydia! Kain – give me a boost inside."

But as Kain made his approach, a series of chugging snaps and bangs echoed inside the darkened chamber, and the tentacles that had steam vents went berserk, shooting off massive clouds every few seconds that made Cecil's skin blister painfully as one swung precariously near his head, a rain of scalding droplets drizzling over him. He bid a hasty retreat, his eyes stinging from the sudden rush of heat, as a set of snaking, twisting wires shot out of the core, looping around each other in the darkness. Moments later, a figure encased in blinding platinum blue slithered out of the core, and it was revealed that the wires were attached directly to its shoulders and backside. The new arrival looked like a wax figurine that had been left too long near an open flame – their body was smooth and featureless, round, saggy jowls hanging down its hairless face that blended into rounded shoulders and two stumps for arms that contained no fingers or any other discernible digits. A lumpy chest expanded into a potbelly that hung over two more stumps that made up its legs. Two blinking, neon white eyes fastened themselves upon the party, and Cecil suddenly felt a throbbing ache in his skull as alien noises and clicks attacked his senses.

"It's trying to talk to me...directly into my mind!" he gasped, clutching his head. "It…it hurts!"

"I...I can hear something...!" Rosa covered her ears, wincing. "But I can't understand any of it!"

"Is this _thing_ responsible for all of this madness?" Kain gaped.

"It's just staring at us…" Rydia muttered, averting her gaze. She didn't like the way it looked at her as if it could see the very depths of her soul – like it could start rattling off her deepest, darkest secrets the same way one recited the alphabet.

The creature tilted its head, reaching back to one of the wires jammed into its back and pulling it out with a loud "thwack" that resembled a boot being pulled out of the mud. It turned back to the party, blinking slowly three times with transparent eyelids. An epicene voice suddenly poured out of the strange metal orbs that were perched along the surrounding satellites, and Cecil and Rosa felt the pain in their heads gradually drain away to a hollow emptiness.

"Let me try this...to see if you can understand my words."

"Who are you?" Cecil asked tersely, raising one hand. "And what is all of this?"

The creature's eyes flicked back and forth, first glancing at Ceodore, and then Golbez, the voice rising out of the speakers once more. "I am the keeper of the crystals, and this moon is my home."

"Keeper of the crystals?" Rosa blinked. "As in the eight crystals on the Blue Planet and those of the Red Moon?"

The creature nodded. "Precisely so. You seem to see the crystals as embodiments of wisdom, but that is not their sole function. Certainly, the crystals have granted you the tools you needed to grow and advance as a civilization... But they are so much more than something as simple as that. Their true purpose is to record and store everything within... The process and final result of every evolution that ever takes place on your planet."

Cecil could have been knocked over by a stiff breeze as he stared at the creature in disbelief. _It's saying that the crystals…relics that men have died for and waged war for centuries…relics that humans and Lunarians alike have strived to worship and protect for all this time…are nothing more than recording devices? Glorified planetary nannies?_

 _This is insane!_

Edge was thinking along the same lines as Cecil. "Every evolution…of what, exactly? How can _crystals_ record data?"

"Evolution as it pertains to _every_ living creature," it explained patiently. "Plants, animals, humans, even the planet itself – the crystals do not discriminate. They record data the same way you or I might – observation of repeatable patterns and deviations. For example, it was from the crystals that I learned about the unusual chemical reaction that occurs within this subject." The tentacle that clung to Ceodore jiggled garishly, causing everyone on the platform except for the strange creature to wince.

"Here we have a human male with an inconsequential fraction of Lunarian blood that can temporarily recode his own DNA to increase vitality – absolutely fascinating. I was getting anxious for your arrival and instead set a lure for him to come to me. It was simple to execute – for I also learned from the crystals that his Lunarian blood was susceptible to psychic impulses and replicated them to achieve my desired result."

"We just call that mind-control on our planet," Kain said dryly.

"That's an acceptable interpretation. As for the half-breed…" it nodded toward Golbez, "I wasn't expecting him to come along as well, but it would seem he wouldn't let the boy out of his sights. I made do."

Cecil drew a tempered breath, though the rage that was boiling in his chest was as powerful as a furnace. "You speak of them as if they're soulless objects. They're not science experiments – they're our friends and our family – they're human beings. I demand that you let them go!"

"Yeah – what is it you're after?" Edge huffed. "What do our crystals contain that is so special that you had to go and stir up all this trouble?"

"Would you understand if I told you that I am in the midst of an experiment involving the future evolution of life? That was the reason why I created the crystals in the first place. The crystals I sent to your planet are no exception – there is, in fact, nothing special about them at all. But now, the time has come to harvest them, as I have harvested many others across the galaxy – you might have noticed them in the previous chamber. I had sent a force of maenads to your planet and to the Red Moon to handle the duty."

"You mean those girls?" Rydia clenched her fist. "They were just doing your dirty work this entire time!?"

"The Maenads are my latest experiment, built from the data stored within my countless number of crystals. You should know this is not the first time they have visited the Blue Planet – it was many years ago that a prototype first made contact. The experiment was ultimately declared a failure – but she was still able to retrieve valuable data for me about your crystals, and eidolons. Eidolons, I realized, would be the key to the most efficient crystal extraction when it was time for the harvest. But it took me nearly sixteen years to perfect the current maenads based off that incomplete data."

"Sixteen years ago…" Edge growled. "I knew it – so Rydia's doppelgänger _was_ one of your minions way back then! That was why she never actually stole the crystals – she was just gathering data about eidolons so you could learn how to manipulate them for yourself. And that's why these girls look like her, too – you modeled them after the only summoner in the world powerful enough to call all the eidolons you wanted, because that's the legacy that was recorded in the crystals."

"An acceptable summary of my efforts, yes."

"And that's why it felt the past has been repeating itself these past few days," Kain frowned. "The maenads were using our own planet's history against us to exploit our weaknesses and to best retrieve the crystals. That's how they knew to manipulate Baron."

"And our past enemies born from the crystals…" Rosa trailed off, clasping her hand to her mouth as the horror gradually dawned upon her. "…You revived them using data from the crystals…you dragged their very souls from the dead to occupy reanimated corpses."

Cecil closed the distance between himself and the keeper of the crystals, his heart sinking deeper into his stomach with each step as he found himself struggling to process all that was being laid out before them. At long last, the puzzle pieces were falling into place, but everything they were being told, he couldn't have imagined in even his darkest of nightmares.

 _Has every little thing I've known about life on our planet and our relationship with the crystals been a deception? My father…he believed in the future of this planet and its people…believed in the light of the crystals…believed that one day, that light would be what saved the Lunarians and would bring us together as one. Was that really all a lie…?_

 _The crystals he held so much faith in…the light he gifted me to protect our world…it was all just part of a madman's experiment…did it really not mean anything at all?_

He stared up at the creature's opaque eyes, jaw clenched. "If I'm understanding all of this, it means you've gotten everything you wanted – the crystals and all the information contained within for your experiments. If that's the case, why is this moon set to collide with our planet?"

A shockingly human sigh drifted over the speakers that had just the slightest tinge of emotion attached – _regret?_

"I am sorry to say this, but your time is over. I fear that you have not achieved enough on this planet to satisfy my needs. You see, I cannot allow the universe to be overrun by inferior species that fail to evolve to their fullest potential. Even these two beings, advanced as they may be, are inferior to other creatures I have studied the universe over." The writhing ball of tentacles, without ceremony, suddenly released Golbez and Ceodore, flinging them precariously over the ledge onto the floating platform with a hollow "thump" as their unconscious bodies bounced against the glass tiles. "Hence, the reason why this moon has not stopped..."

"Wh-what...!?" Cecil gasped, feeling as if all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room – alarm bells were clanging in his ears, his vision flickering in and out with each labored beat of his heart. "You can't be serious!"

"You monster…!" Edge roared. "You're going to purposefully murder everyone on our planet just because we failed to evolve the way _you_ wanted us to? You put us through hell and back, and you're still just going to wipe us out like it's nothing!?"

"P-please, wait...!" Rosa gasped, running to Ceodore and pulling his still body against her chest. "There has to be another way…! Why do innocent people have to die?"

The creature shook its head, holding up one stumpy arm as if to silence them. "You are all a part of the process...the output of the evolutionary plan conceived by the crystals I created. In other words, this is all my work... your lives, the crystals, the Maenads, and this new moon. This is why I am called _the Creator_!"

"NO!" Rydia shrieked, tossing her hand in the air as she began to glow with a shimmering yellow aura that rippled throughout the chamber like a star. "I won't let you – I won't let you use up the ones I love and toss us away like yesterday's trash!" She closed her eyes, a spiral of wind whipping her hair into a frenzy as she tossed her head back and screamed into the heavens. "Bahamut! I have need of your aid!"

"Rydia…wait!" Cecil shielded his face with his arms as the storm that had surrounded the summoner burst forth, the stinging gales nearly tossing him over the ledge. "We need the Creator to stop this moon…!"

His pleas went unheeded; dying in the wind. The gargantuan black dragon made his triumphant return, soaring over the tentacle pod and releasing an ear-shattering screech as he swooped over to Rydia's side. He bent his neck down, his wings stalled mid-air as she climbed on top of him and shimmied down his shoulders, pointing toward the direction of the Creator.

"This is the one that did all of this to us, Bahamut – finish him!"

The Creator stared up at Bahamut with dulled eyes as the dragon rose in the air, preparing his Mega Flare spell. Cecil stumbled away from the Creator just as a pair of tentacles stretched out from the pod, snatching at the air where he had only been standing seconds before and expelling a shower of the same sticky white film that had previously protected the core. He ran to Rosa and Ceodore, sliding to his knees and raising his shield to give cover. Edge and Kain shot each other a look before following suit with Golbez, heaving the sorcerer over their shoulders and dragging him away from Bahamut's crosshairs. With a final pump of his wings, Bahamut tossed his head back and spewed molten fire and popping flares over the ball of tentacles and the Creator, who unleashed a shriek that echoed maddeningly over and over on the surrounding speakers against the nonstop roar of the flames.

When the smoke finally cleared, half of the tentacles were limp and shriveled up on the core, scorched obsidian. Yet many more were still caught on fire, writhing angrily. The Creator had slumped into a puddle of glowing goo in the flame-riddled entrance of the pod, the wires that had been attached to its back now yanked free and twitching about like a pit of vipers as silver sparks flew from the ends.

"Is it over?" Edge winced, peeking out from beneath his cloak.

Bahamut disappeared in a swirl of crystals, Rydia gently gliding back down to the others on an air current born from his wings. But just as her feet touched the ground, the goo that had pooled where the Creator had been standing began to quiver and raise, molding into a new form. This time, instead of a misshapen blob, a svelte, androgynous human body emerged, platinum blue hair falling over its shoulders in soft waves that framed a pair of wide, penetrating blue eyes. A pair of transparent lips formed beneath a delicate slope of a nose. The naked figure stepped forward on fully-formed feet, raising its arms and summoning two of the seizing live wires, which rose into the air and promptly plunged into its shoulder blades.

 _What is this?_ Cecil's stomach lurched at the sound of the Creator's flesh tearing open to accommodate the alien appendages. _A new form spurred by Bahamut's magic?_

The Creator twitched slightly as sparks burst from its back and it stepped down to the platform, its eyes rolling up toward the heavens as if it were intending to address the very cosmos themselves.

"Long ago... I was born on a blue planet, one much like your own. We prospered more than we could ever sustain...until we consumed our very planet down to its core. By the time a small group of experts noticed, it was already too late to reverse the trend. So, we abandoned our home planet and embarked on a space-wide search for another star on which to live. Months and years passed, and generations lived and died aboard our fleet as we voyaged. Eventually, our ability to survive slowly deteriorated to nothing...stunted by the artificial environment we lived in. The result is this new moon you see...the remains of our space fleet. You trudged through our villages, our gardens, our attempts at cultivating a home…I am the very last survivor of my race."

"So that's what all those strange places here were…" Rosa whispered. If the Creator heard her, it did not pay her any mind. It continued to stroll down the platform, a queer twist set in its mouth as its eyes now swept over each one of them. Despite just being burned alive by Bahamut, it didn't seem too keen to counter – _yet._

"What kind of civilization _should_ we have built? How should we have evolved instead? In search of an answer, I embarked on a lifetime of experimentation, creating the crystals to record all of my proceedings. After I made them, I sent them out to countless planets...any place that had the potential to sustain life."

Cecil rose when the creature reached them, gesturing for the others to stand down as he took a few hesitant steps forward, lowering his shield to his side. "And every planet that you retrieved those crystals from…you made to perish? Because you have yet to find the answers you seek?"

The Creator nodded serenely, and Cecil felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck, terrified of asking his next question for fear of giving life to the cruel truth that he _somehow_ already knew in his heart of hearts to be real. He didn't understand _how_ he knew – but was sure it had something to do with the way his Lunarian blood was howling in anguish inside his ears, how every survival instinct inside of him had raged awake and was screaming for him to run far away.

But he _ha_ d to know – he had to hear it from the Creator's lips – regardless if he made it out of this alive or not.

"And the Lunarians' home planet – the star they occupied before the Red Moon – you were the one that destroyed that too, weren't you? You were the Great Behemoth of which Fusoya spoke that devoured their planet whole."

The Creator smiled slightly.

"The Lunarians have always held a fascination for me – not only did many of them manage to escape the initial harvest – but they even absconded with one of my crystals, that even to this day, I haven't located. And now, for me to discover all this time later that they've also managed to breed two generations of a hybrid race…" it cut its eye to Ceodore as it spoke, then turning back to Cecil. "…Those with lesser knowledge of such things would call such a feat a miracle. But to me – it's merely straying from evolution – a temporary diversion on the path to extinction. My maenads found the Lunarians' Red Moon, and now this Blue Planet that they fashioned to be a sanctuary – why they chose to deny a fate that was sealed for them so very long ago, I suppose I'll never understand."

Cecil lowered his head, his hair falling over his face as the first tear spilled over, sliding down the curve of his cheek and splashing onto the tile below with a delicate "plink" that caused it to ignite with a soft blue glow.

 _Father…Fusoya…I wish you were here…I wish you could see the face of the monster that did this to our people…!_

"…You really have to ask "why" the Lunarians did all of that? It's because they wanted to survive…because they had found a reason to go on, despite all the needless pain and suffering you imparted upon them. Isn't that why you're standing before me right now? You _wanted_ to survive…you too, found your purpose that kept you from fading away…" Cecil shook his head, feeling his fingers involuntarily curl into a fist as another tear fell. "…But you twisted that survival instinct into something ugly and hateful…something _subhuman_."

"To survive…" the Creator trailed off, pressing its fingers to its lips. "…But in the end, it would still all be for naught. What's the point of an inferior race wasting precious energy and resources in a universe that is finite? Someday, we'll all die – and what will we have accomplished if we have not furthered the evolutionary chain to ensure that life goes on? Those that do not contribute should just get out of the way – the ethical path is to eliminate them before they have to know the absolute despair that comes with waiting to die – knowing that there is nothing to be done that will save them!"

"You're wrong!" Cecil cried. "The universe…it's…"

The Creator suddenly gave in to a terrible tremor, clutching its sides as it stumbled backward and threw its head back. Behind it, the two wires that had injected themselves into its back were glowing a faint red, trails of smoke rising from throbbing pustules that had formed over its shoulder blades at the insertion points. "Ngh...! I am sorry...but my craft cannot hold out any longer... The chemical reactions... that were controlled by my outer frame...! They are changing...me... My brain has started to... transform...!"

"CECIL!" Kain cried. "Look out!"

Cecil looked up just in time to see the Creator lunging for him with wild crimson eyes, his right arm mutated into a slender cutlass that was aimed directly for his chest. The screech of steel colliding burst in the air, and Kain appeared before him, gritting his teeth as he blocked the Creator's blade with his lance and shoved it away, slamming his foot into its stomach and sending him flying across the floor. The two wires snapped out of the Creators back, pus-streaked blood oozing out of them as they limply flailed about.

"Kain!" Cecil gasped. "Thank you…"

"Thank me later…here it comes!"

The Creator had recovered from Kain's attack, and was now running toward them with blinding speed, its other arm seizing and throbbing with a sickening cracking noise as it molded itself into a second cutlass. Cecil withdrew his blade, he and Kain nodding to each other before dashing off in opposite directions. The Creator decided to go after Cecil first, which was exactly what the two of them had been hoping would happen.

"Hah!" Cecil grunted, spinning around to meet the Creator's dual blades and countering with a blow to its shoulder. A gelatinous slice of skin flapped open as Cecil pulled back, a milky fluid spouting out over the wound as thread-like weavings danced over the Creator's skin, stitching it back up before Cecil's eyes.

 _It can regenerate using the same film that was protecting the pod… Good to know._

As they darted over the length of the platform, exchanging blows, Rosa buffed Cecil with spells as quickly as she could rattle them off – Haste to make him fly like the wind, Blink to bless him with the agility to dance between the Creator's dual blades, and Protect for extra insurance against any lucky hits the Creator landed. As Cecil parried a reckless thrust to his abdomen, he made another mental note of the Creator's fighting style: novice, reactionary, but still extremely dangerous.

 _The Creator has obviously never been in a fight in its life. Its technique is too erratic – it's trying to combine too many combat strategies that play against each other. Everything it has learned is from the crystals' data…it's running on auto-pilot._

 _…But I can see the mania hemorrhaging from its gaze and feel its desperation in every strike. It's furious…terrified…grief-stricken…!_

"Why isn't Cecil trying to advance?" Rydia gasped, noticing that Cecil was being edged closer and closer to the stairs, a trip down which would surely break his neck if he wasn't thrown over the platform's ledge first. Edge waggled his finger.

"Dueling 101, my dear. He's drawing the Creator out of its shell, forcing it to reveal its technique."

"For what purpose?"

"For _him_."

Edge nodded toward the demolished pod, the top of which where Kain was quietly posed, observing the duel from afar. He slowly lifted his lance, cupping his fingers over the spike until it lit up with a lustrous indigo glow. Across the battlefield, Cecil lifted his gaze, the Creator noticing the reflection of the lance's radiance in Cecil's pupils a moment too late. Cecil thrust forward, feinting an attack on the Creator's chest. As the Creator drew his twin blades in a cross to deflect, Cecil suddenly dropped his sword lower, dodge-rolling to the right as he struck the Creator in the ribs instead. As the Creator shrieked and dove forward after Cecil's vulnerable back, Kain launched himself from the pod, swinging his lance down and plunging it into the Creator's wide-open chest from above.

A burst of opalescent blood spurted from the gaping wound as Kain withdrew his weapon and pivoted on his heel, following up with a roundhouse kick to the Creator's head. It went stumbling backward over the ledge, its mutated arms transforming back into human-esque digits as its eyes desperately searched Cecil's.

"Tell...me... How… How...were we...supposed...to live...?"

Cecil collapsed on his rear, saying nothing as the Creator fell away, a piercing scream rising from the depths that made his heart seize in his chest as it reverberated over and over in the echo chamber created by the floating speakers.

"Hoooooooow!?"

Silently, Kain extended his hand to Cecil, who grabbed hold and hauled himself off of the floor, nodding his thanks. Behind them, Rydia was shaking her head, happy tears streaming down her cheeks as Edge did a backflip and pumped his fist in the air.

"Well done! That was so awesome, I didn't even mind not being invited to the party!"

"Thank goodness…" Rosa trailed off, forcing a small smile as she cradled Ceodore in her arms and pressed her lips to his forehead. "Will you wake up now, my darling? It's safe again…"

"Ceodore…Golbez!" Cecil sheathed his sword, pulling away from Kain and racing to his family's side. Edge had dragged Golbez's body nearer to Rosa so that she could heal him along with Ceodore, but neither of them had yet to regain consciousness. Cecil kneeled down, pushing Ceodore's hair away from his clenched eyes and shaking his head in dismay.

 _What if that monster robbed them of their light…just like the maenad did to me? Is that why they won't respond…?_

"Let's search what's left of that thing's base and see if we can find anything to help us," Kain said quickly, coming up from the rear. "It doesn't look like Bahamut totally wrecked it."

"I'm sorry…" Rydia gulped. "My anger…it just…I couldn't stop myself, and…" She lowered her head. "All I could think about were the eidolons…those poor maenads, born and bred to be used as interplanetary reapers…and all of our needless suffering…just for the Creator to retrieve eight meaningless pieces of glass…!"

"It's OK, Rydia," Rosa said softly. "We know now that the Creator had intentions of harming us one way or the other… No one blames you."

Cecil had crawled over to Golbez, shaking his shoulders roughly as he sputtered off Raise and Cura spells, cursing under his breath when there was no response to the influx of magic that soaked into the sorcerer's body.

 _Brother…I know you can hear me…please…you have to wake up! For you to have followed Ceodore into such danger… How will I ever forgive myself if I lose you like this…?_

Kain and Edge made their way to the pod, about to leap inside when a staggering quake rocked the platform, sending the dying, roasting tentacles into a renewed frenzy as they smashed into the glass at the invaders' feet, sending chunks of the floor spiraling into oblivion below. Edge and Kain leapt back just in time to keep from tumbling over, watching with muted horror as the pod began to convulse and secrete massive amounts of syrupy white film, coating itself in seconds and spilling over into glistening globules that began to sprout hundreds of bulging, blinking blue eyes that resembled those of the Creator's second form. The surviving tentacles that were doused in the film began to merge together, forming a super-sized trio of wiry fins that extended from the sides and top of the pod, undulating eerily like wind-swept banners. A series of wet popping noises rang out, blood-red spikes emerging from the many eyes and newly-formed, leaky abscesses that sprung up the rapidly-stretching and extending rear.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Edge screeched. "HELL NO!"

Kain dragged the shell-shocked Edge out of the way just in time for a cavernous maw to split apart where the entrance to the pod had once been, a black, serpentine tongue darting out between jagged rows of sharpened teeth and beckoning a tidal wave of acid-purple vomit that promptly dissolved what had been left of the floor after the tentacles' assault. As the debris fell away and everyone made a desperate retreat from the ledge, a shapely silhouette clawed its way through the top of the now-quivering mass, flecks of pus and gelatin-like flesh flying in the air as it finally managed to penetrate the surface. The figure had the appearance of a woman carved in marble, curved hips melting into the hardening film of the mutation's skull and bell-shaped breasts concealed by snippets of yellow gossamer arched toward the sky. A blank, featureless face with the exception of two misty eyes and a slit for a mouth crowned her swan-like neck, yards of liquid silver hair drifting behind her against the backdrop of space. The mass began to rise in the air shakily, two violet-tinged wings bursting from her back and ushering forth a powerful zephyr that reeked of blight and a nauseating sweetness that made Cecil's eyes water as he threw himself in front of Rosa, Ceodore and Golbez to shield them.

"Is this the Creator's next form!?" Rydia gasped. "How could it…err… _she_ …have possibly survived that fall!?"

"She's evolving!" Kain screamed over the increasing winds. "The wires in the pod were sustaining her – the body we slayed was just a mobile extension of this shell! She'll just keep mutating and mutating until…!"

The Creator's tongue rolled back out of her mouth, her army of eyes blinking in unison as her jaw began to unhinge with a sickening crack, the windstorm reversing course and suddenly sucking _toward_ the gaping emptiness that was growing by the second, expanding outward like a black hole devouring a star.

"It's going to swallow us!" Edge shouted, his cloak whipping dangerously around his neck as he turned toward the others. "We have to run!"

"Aaahhh!" A violent current broke through, and Cecil was abruptly swept off his feet, his body twisting chaotically as he clawed at the slippery glass tiles to try to drag himself away from the storm. Rosa immediately lunged forward, grabbing his hands in hers as she lowered her head and screamed into her chest.

"Cecil! Don't let go of me!"

"Rosa…!"

He felt something hard collide into him, knocking the wind out of his lungs. The numbing realization that he had let himself slip away from Rosa's grip turned his blood to ice as he flew backwards, collapsed into a crumpled heap of limbs that no longer touched any part of the floor. His head spun from the swells of pain that engulfed his nerves, atoms of black dancing in his vision and Rosa's cries fading away as he twisted his neck and got a hazy glimpse of what had crashed into him.

It was Ceodore's listless body, sailing head-first into the Creator's waiting mouth. Cecil's eyes slid shut, the final fragments of his urge to fight fleeing his broken body in a brilliant burst of starlight.

* * *

 _Baron Castle_

"Hah! Take that, nasty Imp!"

The apprentice black mage brought his rod down with a crash, smashing it into the already much-disfigured (thanks to a previous round of beatings) hooked nose of the Imp before him. The monster's eyes rolled in the back of its head as it fell to the floor, fading into dust before it could hit the ground. The mage threw his hand up in a cheer, not that anyone else around him was paying much attention amid the chaos that had erupted.

The throne room at the castle was spilling over with monsters that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere – one minute, the boy had been hiding in the black magic classroom with his friends after the first distress signals went off, remembering what King Cecil had told him the last time the monsters had come – that he needed to be a good boy and wait things out. The next minute, the door to the classroom had been smashed open by a barrage of Bombs – a full classroom's worth of Blizzard spells had made quick work of them.

His class had retreated to the throne room (which they had found to be utterly decimated) with many other villagers that had taken refuge, but King Cecil and Queen Rosa were nowhere to be seen. Shortly after, the monsters had poured in after them, forcing everyone into battle.

Suddenly, a veil of moonlight swept through the darkened chamber, shining through the gigantic hole in the northern wall where a row of picture windows had once been and bathing both monster and Baronian alike in divine radiance. Much to the villagers' shock, the monsters fell back, bursting into piles of dust one by one.

The apprentice lowered his rod, glancing toward the destroyed throne a few feet away in confusion as the light began to drain away as swiftly as it had come, the last of the monsters fading away. He suddenly got the strangest feeling that someone was watching him – in fact, it was the same as the warm, floaty feeling that had spread through his chest after King Cecil had saved his life a few days prior.

"King Cecil?" the boy whispered, and a woman who had been fighting a Cockatrice next to him whirled around, blinking as she lowered the knife she had swiped from the castle kitchens.

"What of King Cecil!? Is he here?"

"Uh…" the boy shook his head so quickly that his straw hat flopped over his eyes. "No… But for a moment…I thought he was right beside me."

* * *

 _Baron Village_

Joanna Farrell was sitting alone at her dining room table, slowly stirring the same cup of tea she had been staring at for the past two hours that had gone long-cold. When she had heard the few guards that seemed to be left in town screaming outside for everyone to take shelter, she didn't bother her usual poking around to get the scoop about what was _really_ going on – a privilege she could usually invoke with minimal grumbling from the soldiers as the mother of the Queen. She simply rose from the easy chair she had been sitting in, blowing out her oil lamp and shuttering her windows before slipping into the kitchen. That was where her favorite portrait of her one and only daughter hung – the one she had to beg and plead Rosa to cooperate for when all she had wanted to do that day was go off on some cockamamie adventure with Cecil.

She already knew Rosa was long-gone and that there was no point in seeking her out – call it a mother's intuition. When Ceodore had been dodgy about her inquiries when he had suddenly made his way to town and just as suddenly had left, that had solidified her suspicion that something much more menacing than just Cecil going off the deep end (those rumors she had been _sure_ to dig into) was going on.

A glistening light suddenly danced in her darkened tea, causing her to stir out her self-induced stupor and spin around in her chair. She realized she had forgotten to shutter the kitchen window too and was greeted by a beautiful spill of moonlight that had filled her backyard and trailed into the kitchen, highlighting the golden hues of Rosa's hair in her portrait hanging across from her. Joanna stood up, pressing her palms to the windowsill as she gazed outside.

The skies were still pitch-black – she had lost track long ago if it was day or night, anymore – once the sun had been blocked out by that abominable twin moon, and she had realized the entirety of her family had disappeared, she didn't much care what time it was anymore. She squinted, tilted her head in unnatural angles, and even dared to slide the window open just a bit to stick her head outside – and yet, she still could not find the source of the light. The twin moon had faded to the ominous color of a bruise that nearly blended in with the sky, and their other moon had completely disappeared – it had begun its cycle anew after the full moon from a few nights prior.

 _"Mother…"_

Joanna shivered, quickly slamming the window shut as she spun around – was she hearing things?

Alas, the kitchen was still empty save for herself, and the pocket of moonlight had disappeared, drenching her in the familiar darkness once again. As she lifted her eyes back to the portrait, she felt her heart leap into her throat: Rosa's hair continued to shine as if the moonlight were still upon it, a knowing smile set upon her bow-shaped lips as she gazed at something with a mixture of sadness and lovingness that seemed to be out of the frame – something just beyond her reach.

"…Rosa!?"

* * *

 _Mount Ordeals_

The temperatures at the summit of Mount Ordeals had plummeted so steeply in absence of the sun's glare that the normally brisk nights had turned completely frigid, a coating of ice already streaking over the ground and the outside of the abandoned shrine.

Inside, all remained as it was before – wreckage of shattered crystal and glass was strewn about, a trail of dried blood leading from the still void where a mirrored wall had once stood to the middle of the chamber, where it mysteriously and suddenly came to a halt. A serene flutter of breath cascaded from the depths of the void, particles of light daintily rising into the air…

 _"O mighty dragoon... You have overcome your lonely trials... I know you are capable of this..."_

* * *

 _Mist_

The Elder of Mist was paused next to the pond that marked the resting place of the Motherly Summoner, watching with pursed lips as a palpitating red and orange glow stained the skies of the southern horizon of the Misty Valley.

 _Baron is burning_ , he thought to himself soberly. _It won't be long until they fall…and then Mist will be next._

The young girl he had escorted to the pond to fetch a bucket of clean water was dallying – he knew it was torture for everyone, especially the children, to be locked up all day and night. But far too many monsters had been spotted wandering the village that had somehow managed to make their way over from across the valley, and the random explosions of meteorites streaking the skies meant that Mist might be assaulted again at any moment. It was too dangerous for anyone to be alone, so an emergency buddy system had been conceived that required anyone leaving the house they had designated as their headquarters to always go with a partner.

Releasing a shaky sigh, the elder crossed his arms, trying to capture as much warmth against his chest as he could manage with this awful chill that had fallen over the planet. As ghastly the scenery was before him, he couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away.

"What is it?" he finally asked of the girl without turning to look at her. "Is there a hole in that bucket or are you just fooling around? You know it's dangerous to be outside like this."

"It's Rydia," the girl replied nonchalantly, and the elder spun around, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

The child was kneeling at the pebble-covered shore, the bucket next to her filled with clear blue water. The elder followed the girl's gaze toward the pond's center, where concentric ripples had been quietly drifting from a lone, red-streaked hyacinth blossom that had gotten separated from the rest of the plants in the garden behind it that framed Adeline's grave.

"You can sense Rydia?" the elder asked quietly, and the girl nodded, folding her hands together.

"She's very frightened…homesick, too, I think."

The elder sank to his knees next to the girl, placing his hand over hers.

"That is why we must pray for her – for Rydia, and King Edge, and all the rest…we must pray for our planet, too. The eidolons will protect Rydia, whenever she may be – and we will protect her heart from afar."

The little girl bit her lip, her fingers clenching beneath the old man's grip.

"She's in a place…where even the eidolons can't reach her."

* * *

 _Eblan_

"We can't let them defeat us!" Seneschal cried, swinging his bloodied katana wildly from atop Edge's throne. "Not until His Young Highness returns!"

" _Then_ it will be OK for the monsters to defeat us!?" Chisaki hissed, planting her high-heeled foot into a Desert Sahagin's face and simultaneously stabbing two others that had attempted to foolishly engage her in a pincer attack. All three monsters fell to the floor in a dead heap, exploding into a pile of musky dust.

"No!" Seneschal huffed. "Then he can take over and I can get some sleep!"

"Lady Chisaki…" one of the guards gaped as she smeared her knife on her dress before sheathing it. "…Have you ever considered reenlisting for combat? You're incredible!"

"Of course she is!" another guard sniped, hearts dancing in his eyes as he eyed her appreciatively. "She's the mother and cousin of two of the Eblan Four! That pedigree alone puts her lightyears ahead of us!"

"Oh, boys," Chisaki giggled. "You flatter an old woman. But no – I'm perfectly content with my role as occasional backup. I hung up my ninja garb a long time ago – having a kid is hell on your body – especially one as spirited as my Lapin."

The guards proceeded to fall over themselves in insisting just how not old and not hellish Chisaki was, and Seneschal stomped his foot, his eyes wild with rage.

"You imbeciles are worse than His Young Highness! How could you possibly be flirting at a time like this!?"

Chisaki giggled as she eyed another pair of monsters peering at them from the shattered skylight above, slyly gesturing for them to come at her with the curl of a finger.

"It's all in good fun, Seneschal – I'm retired from dating, too. Why don't you worry about His Highness' love life, and I'll worry about mine?"

"That is hardly the point – " Seneschal began, but Chisaki had already propelled herself into a somersault, latching on to one of the newly-arrived monsters with her thighs and twisting until a sickening crunch rang out. The Seneschal frowned as the monster collapsed beneath Chisaki's weight and shook his head, muttering to himself.

"Young Highness…please come home soon…"

"Whoa!" one of guards cried, pointing toward the skylight. "Look out!"

An entire herd of monsters had crowded above them, clawing at each other in a race to shimmy down into the throne room. Seneschal gritted his teeth, mentally calculating how much time it might take to send one of the guards searching for backup and how long they would last with one less man. Suddenly, the monsters began to howl in agony, each one of them exploding into dust that rained upon the throne room in a curtain of black.

"Thank the gods, backup has arrived!" one of the guards exclaimed. "And they're kicking some serious arse!"

Seneschal cringed, cataloging yet another mental entry on his "Things to Lecture Edge About" list RE: using foul language in front of the cadets. But as the monsters cleared away, exposing what should have been their savior in the collapsing window frame, Seneschal could make nothing out – he caught only the slightest ray of silvery moonlight dancing over the precariously dangling shards of glass – and when he blinked to sweep away some of the dust that had blown into his eyes, it was gone.

"What on…!?"

* * *

 _The True Moon, Surface_

"Cid, come here! You've gotta see this!"

Cid came lumbering in from the commons area back to the bridge, where Luca was paused over a panel with its cover torn off, a wrench in hand that she had used to pry it away. Her stare, however, was not focused on the work in front of her – a mess of fried and melted circuitry. Cid was about to ask her what the problem was when he caught it out of the corner of his eye – something glowing powerfully on the floor a few feet away, a spill of gold radiating against the well-worn grates.

"What is that?" Cid blinked, and a voice behind him piped up.

"The shattered Crystal of Flight, ya old coot. Your memory getting that bad?"

"Palom!" Luca barked. "Shut that big mouth of yours!"

"Jeeze, sorry," Palom lifted his hands, backing away as Cid turned to glare at him. "Just wanted to see what all the commotion is about. I needed a break from Porom and Leonora – they are demanding!"

"They're unwell," Luca said dryly. "And I seem to remember you about to burst into tears when you carried Leonora to her room, telling her you'd do anything she wanted. Maybe your memory is the one that's getting bad?"

Palom huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You were totally eavesdropping, stalker!"

"Was not."

"Was so."

"OK, would both of you shut up?" Cid cried, pressing his hands to his ears. "Look at the crystal now!"

They instantly ceased their argument, turning back to the glimmering crystal debris. Sliver by sliver, it had begun to float in the air, an obelisk of light erupting in the center of the bridge and capturing each shard into its orbit.

"Cecil…" Cid muttered. "Is this your doing…?"

"The crystal is repairing itself?" Palom gasped. "That means we can go home!"

"Not without Cecil!" Luca cried. "I know he sent us back here…but we can't leave without _any_ of them! This means for sure that they survived Bahamut's attack!"

"I KNOW that!" Palom frowned. "What kind of monster do you think I am?" Luca raised an eyebrow, and he shook his head. "N-Never mind that. What we need to do now is pray – pray to the crystals and pray to Cecil's moon – we have to give them all of our strength, just as we did seventeen years ago in the Tower of Prayer. You remember, don't you Luca?"

"A little," Luca bit her lip. "But the crystals were whole back then, and the Red Moon was part of our orbit. And now…"

"It doesn't matter!" Palom shook his head. "As long as our will is absolute, we can create miracles."

"He's right."

Cid, Luca and Palom spun around to the entrance of the bridge, where Porom was clinging to the threshold frame to hold herself up. Her voice cracked as a tear slid down her cheek, splashing onto the wilted whisperweed she still had pinned to her collar. "I know the Elder isn't here to help us, and that the crystals are gone…but we still have to try. Palom and I will lead the prayer ceremony in the Elder's place – but we need everyone's help for this to work!"

"I'm on it!" Cid nodded. I'll wrangle everyone into the bridge – we'll use the Crystal of Flight's light as our conduit!" He pressed the lock release to bolt outside, where he knew at least a few people were helping Luca by investigating the ship's exterior damage and making a report.

"I'll help with getting Leonora up," Luca offered, setting down her wrench. Palom shot her a wary look, and she crossed her arms, sneering right back.

"Come on – what do you think I'm going to do to her!?"

"Get her all riled up while she's sick by telling her horrible things about me," Palom snapped, and Luca's face suddenly fell, taking him aback.

"I…I wouldn't do that. Leonora sees you for what you are…that much is plain to see. If you're so worried about what other people think about you, maybe it means you're not being entirely open with her."

"A-About what?" Palom blanched, and Luca shook her head, pushing past him. Porom slowly shifted away from the door so that Luca could slip through.

"Figure it out yourself, _genius_."

Palom's jaw dropped as he looked to Porom, who despite her crippling exhaustion, had a small smile on her face. "Do you know what she's going on about?"

"Maybe," Porom shrugged, limping the rest of the way inside. "But we've got slightly more important issues than your emotional immaturity to deal with right now."

* * *

The first thought that drifted through Cecil's mind as his mind slowly awoke from its tranquil, dreamless slumber was how _magnificent_ it felt not to be in pain anymore.

 _It feels as if my body has never sustained so much as a bruise…_

 _Every tendon is alert, alive with vitality, abounding with strength…_

 _And my heart…at long last, the excruciating chaos has been quelled…_

His eyes slid open, and he was greeted with a scintillating synthesis of cerulean and crystal that beckoned from all around – such fierce, yet gentle luminosity that he wanted to sink into like the arms of a lover and never leave again. It took him a few moments to realize that he was suspended in mid-air, hovering over a sea of mist that seemed to drift onward forever. Gingerly lowering his foot, he saw that his skin was bare and whole – no evidence of swelling from so much walking and running, and the scars on his legs he had acquired from years of battle (and some youthful foolishness) had faded away, leaving only the downy spray of silver-white hair that trailed up the indented curve of his calves and the length of his thighs. He observed the same for his stomach and chest, and held his hands in front of him, now free of his gauntlets, flexing his digits and marveling at the fluid way they moved through the air – no more knuckles cracking, jammed joints throbbing, or broken fingernails slicing open his skin.

Unconsciously, his hand drifted to his left ear lobe, and he felt the corners of his mouth lift as his fingertip pressed into the nub of scar tissue positioned next to his ill-advised childhood piercing.

When his feet hit the mist, he did not plunge within – something invisible was holding him aloft, like a Float spell. But when he glanced over his shoulder to confirm the magic's presence, he didn't see familiar flash of the transparent wings. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and relishing in the rush of clear, sweet air that unfolded in his chest, filling him with another surge of divine energy.

 _I've never felt this alive in my life…_

 _So, could it be that I'm actually..._

He let that last thought evaporate from his consciousness as he walked forward, noticing that his heart began to pound faster as he made his approach to the north, where a particularly dazzling prism of light was glinting at him welcomingly. As he got closer, he saw a figure with sun kissed hair spilled across the mist, floating on its surface with diamond beads of water droplets that dotted the apples of her cheeks, the valley between her breasts, and the half-moon of her abdomen – a flower greeting the dawn drenched in morning dew.

 _Rosa,_ his heart beamed. _Thank the gods…_

He kneeled down beside her, pulling her into his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead. He felt her mouth move against him and the tickle of her eyelashes brushing against his jaw as she opened her eyes. As soon she realized who it was, she sank into him willingly, digging her fingernails into his shoulder blades and whispering his name.

He pulled back, sliding a lock of her hair behind her ear and letting his senses drink in every last inch of her.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded, sitting back slightly to take in more of their surroundings. He could see halcyon light that had flooded her eyes slowly fade to confusion in the gleam of her enlarged pupils.

"Cecil…where are we?"

"I'm not sure. I just woke up like this – I didn't really think about where I was setting off to – I just let my body carry me and eventually found you."

"Right," she murmured, lowering her gaze in thought. "The last thing I remember is the Creator…she tore you and Ceodore away from me, and…!"

 _Ahhh!_ Cecil winced as the memory branded itself back onto his mind, his heart twisting in his chest as he recalled the utter despair that had overtaken him as he had watched Ceodore sink into oblivion. The agonized screams of the others rang in his ears, and he clutched his hands to his head, unleashing a strangled cry.

 _My son…my one and only child…he's…!_

 _And the others…Kain, Rydia, Edge, Golbez…are they gone too?_

 _How…HOW could I have forgotten?_

"Cecil!" Rosa yanked away his hands, grasping his wrists as she pressed her forehead to his. "Please…I need you with me! Don't leave me again – no matter how much it hurts to remember!"

"I'm sorry," Cecil rasped, shaking his head. "I'm sorry…I…"

"I know," Rosa sighed, reluctantly releasing him. "It…it aches…it aches like nothing I've ever felt before," she pressed her lips together, shivering. "…If we're here like this…does this mean we failed? Did the Creator…"

"…Kill us?" Cecil finished, and she nodded, wincing. He sat back, idly rubbing his wrists where Rosa had taken hold. "…I had the same thought when I woke up. When I rose, I had this feeling…of indescribable peace. My body and my mind were finally at rest. But if we're here…where are the others? Did they manage to escape?"

"They could have," Rosa lowered her head. "Although I don't see how. Cecil…I'm just… _so scared_. What are we supposed to do now if we can't go home? _Where_ are our friends…?"

Her eyes began to water, her tears reflecting the crystal that surrounded them and transforming her eyes into depthless prisms that he thought he could lose himself in forever. As he felt himself falling into her stare, another memory slowly made its way back to the surface of his mind…

 _The Creator…she said our universe was finite – that everything has to die in order to sustain the one true evolutionary path she is obsessed with finding with the help of the crystals._

 _But the crystals…in a place like this, where life, pain, suffering and even they themselves have ceased to exist…they still shine with resplendent light, using our_ _ **souls**_ _as the catalyst in the absence of all else._

 _I feel that light in my heart when I think about the ones I love – Ceodore, Kain, Rydia, Edge…Golbez – and all the others waiting for us back in our world._

 _I see it shining before me in Rosa's eyes – reaching me even in the darkest depths of despair. And even though I didn't remember a thing when I woke up, my body led me right to her…like it was instinct encoded within my very DNA._

 _The Creator was able to revive our enemies with the crystals – even my past self. Every catastrophe she has brought upon us she did so using only the data she retrieved – even when the souls she revived were unwilling, and even as the crystals lost their light._

 _What if we used the crystals the same way…?_

"Don't be scared," Cecil said softly, cupping her face in his hands and gingerly wiping away the first tear to fall. "We'll be with them again soon."

"…What?" Rosa blinked. "I don't understand."

"I didn't either, until just now," Cecil shook his head. "The answer has been in front of us this entire time – and it was all the Creator's doing."

She stared up at him, biting her lip. "…I am going to need more of an explanation than that."

"I'm getting to it," Cecil smiled slightly. "The crystals were created to record evolution. They've borne witness to every event that has ever occurred on our planet – which was how the Creator was able to repeat history and exploit our weaknesses. Right?"

"Right," Rosa nodded. "So…?"

"So, that means they recorded us, too," Cecil said. "It may be true that our bodies are shells – they die, they decay, they return to the planet. But our souls – thanks to the crystals' watchfulness of our existence – have been made eternal." He took her hand, pressing it to his chest – her fingers curled slightly over his beating heart. "That's how my father is able to continue watching over us on Mount Ordeals. How King Baron's soul was revived as an Eidolon. How Rydia's mother guards Mist alongside her phantom dragon. How our enemies were able to return on this moon. Everything that the crystals record becomes part of their DNA – DNA that is constantly evolving as they acquire more knowledge and expend energy protecting our planet. And that energy…"

"…Fuels the crystals with their light," Rosa finished, her eyes widening. "You're saying that our souls became one with the crystals when they were imprinted upon the crystals' memory? Does that mean we can harness their power even after their light has vanished?"

"That's my theory. The Creator thinks that our universe is finite and has an expiration date that only the most evolved will be able to circumvent – but how can that be if her own creation holds infinite energy? As long as there are crystals _somewhere_ in the universe – there will be life. And as long as there is life, the crystals will continue to shine – just like darkness and light, they have a symbiotic relationship. By making the crystals in the first place…the Creator ensured we will always have a place in this world."

"And how are we supposed to use that power to find the others if we're…we're…?" She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud – that terrible word that meant the end of everything she had known and loved in her short life. She hadn't been ready, hadn't been able to say a proper good-bye… It had all happened too suddenly, with the last memory burned into her mind of Ceodore's body being absorbed into the darkness. She had accepted the possibility of what could come to pass when she stepped onto on the Lunar Whale, but had buried it deep down inside of her – they had created miracles before, and she had harbored hope that they could craft another. But now…

Cecil lowered his eyes, lacing his fingers with hers. He hated to see the ache etched into her features and wanted to tear away the veil of despair that had fallen over her eyes. The dreamtide oath he had sworn long ago to always protect the girl who had become _his_ living dream burned in his heart even now – even when they were both beyond saving.

"Know this, Rosa – that no matter how many times we may fall – I will pray. I'll pray to the crystals for our souls to be reborn to a new future, one where our suffering ceases at long last, where we can live our dreams and _finally_ grasp hold of happiness. And in that future – no matter what new form you or I may take, or what worlds we end up in…I _will_ always find you. Over and over again, as many times as it takes – I will find you and our friends, and we'll begin anew together. I promise with everything I have, everything I am – I will always return to your side."

"Cecil…" Rosa's voice trembled as she trailed a finger through the hair that had fallen around his face. "How can you be so sure…?"

"Because I _have_ to be," Cecil caught her hand within his, pulling her into his chest. "You, and Ceodore, and Kain…and all of our friends who have done so much to shape my world…to shape my very soul…you are my reason to survive. You are _my_ light."

The last thing he saw before burying his face in the golden waves of her hair was the twinkling of rainbow rays shining from high above, drifting over them like the embrace of a seraphim's wings. A rush of warmth raced up his cheeks, the cerulean glare from the crystals drowning in a blinding spread of divine luminescence.

 _Crystals of Light, Crystals of Darkness…please hear my prayer!_

The crescendo of shattering glass sang in Cecil's ears, the final beat of his heart punctuating the chaos as he collapsed wordlessly in Rosa's still arms.

* * *

 _"You have to get back up!"_

 _"Please…stay strong!"_

 _"You promised…you promised we'd all come home, together…!"_

 _"You can't leave us now – there's still too much to do!"_

 _Ah, even now, I can still hear them…I guess they weren't so far away after all. My friends…I know we'll meet again soon…please wait for me._

A small smile crept over Cecil's lips as a maelstrom of catastrophic proportions erupted around him.

The Creator, her face twisted in a confused sneer, staggered back as eight reflections of piercing light shot into the atmosphere and tore away the cloak of darkness that concealed the sky, revealing a brilliant swirl of violet and cerulean stirred into traces of silver moonlight. Spread before her was a mass of quivering, shining crystal that had overtaken the entirety of the platform below, the color so clear and true that she could see through it as easily as water. Deep cracks were rapidly spreading over the crystal's face, splintering into countless fractures.

Encased within were five figures – flash-frozen in time all with the same peaceful looks veiling their faces despite the storm raging abound. The first major chunk of crystalline debris shattered off of the figure in the center, revealing a spill of silver and sparkling amazonite as the shards dissolved into diamond granules.

 _Mmmm_? Cecil slightly winced as a gale of wind tore past his ear, sending his body into a fit of shivers that stirred his every fiber. _Another nightmare…?_

With great effort, he opened his eyes, his vision a blur of darkness and starlight. He could make out the shadow of a figure standing between him and the Creator with one hand extended in the air, the sound of fabric snapping in the wind shooting through him like the crack of a whip. He attempted to lift his hands to grind away the sleep from his eyes, only to realize that they were stuck. He glanced down, his heart leaping into his throat.

From the chest down, he was trapped in a tower of crystal, his hands pinned to his hips – crystal that was anchoring him from the raging vacuum that was attempting to drag him into the unhinged jaw of the Creator's mutated mouth.

"How…!?" Cecil rasped, and the figure before him spun around, violet and cerulean colliding as their eyes met, the world exploding into view once more.

"I can't hold her back much longer, Cecil! Wake the others and harness the crystals' light!"

"Golbez!" Cecil gasped. "You're alive! And…" He noticed the glowing shard grasped in Golbez's left hand, sparkling with the same brilliance as the crystal that had embraced his form. "Is that…?"

"HURRY!" Golbez growled, gritting his teeth as he turned back to the Creator, his cloak flying up wildly over his shoulders as another cyclone of wind spun past. It was only then that Cecil noticed what else Golbez was carrying – tucked under his right arm, windswept and unconscious but very much alive – was Ceodore.

 _The crystals' light…_ Cecil lifted his head, knowing that he would find what he was looking for before his body had even obeyed his command. Drifting above, oblivious to the surrounding storm, were the Blue Planet's eight crystals, each brimming with a luminescence more powerful than Cecil had ever seen in his life.

 _Rosa…Kain…Rydia…Edge…! I cannot do this alone – please, wake up…lend me your strength just one more time!_

The Creator unleashed a world-ending scream as the rest of the crystal binding Cecil and the others shattered in a catastrophic explosion, the broken shards rising into the sky above them like reverse rain. Beams of laser-thin ultraviolet light shot between each of the shards, weaving a shield of light around the seven warriors and forcing the winds that were sucking them in to come to a sudden and dramatic halt.

"How is this happening!?" The Creator growled, her voice rising dangerously as the speakers around them became drowned in static and started to smoke. "That crystal…it cannot be…!" Cecil stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as Golbez let out a strained laugh.

"That's right – it's the crystal that has eluded you for so long – the one you tried to steal from our ancestors when you destroyed their planet. All of this…" Golbez gestured behind him toward the shield, "…Was born from the memory contained within a single shard…and the hopes of countless Lunarians and humans!"

 _Oh my gods…!_ Cecil gasped. _I handed Golbez a shard of the shattered ninth crystal before the mysterious girl found us in the Lunar Core…he's been holding onto it this entire time, even though he believed his heart could not gift it light…?_

"Cecil!" He heard a voice call out from behind and felt a hand slip into his. He turned, his heart hammering as his eyes fell upon Rosa's.

"Y…You're awake…"

"Thanks to you and your brother," Rosa smiled. "I'm not ready to sleep, yet – this for Ceodore's future...our future...the future of everyone on our planet!"

"We will stop this moon…and you…right where you stand!" Kain approached Cecil's opposite side, extending his hand and summoning his lance, which flew into his fingers effortlessly. He turned to Cecil, flashing a teasing smile. "Not that any of us could sleep anyway, with all that racket you were making – I could hear your voice calling out to me with every beat of my heart. I guess even crystal isn't soundproof."

"Kain!" Cecil exclaimed. "Are you OK?"

"Never better," Kain twirled his lance. "Do you really think I would let you and Rosa rush into danger without me?"

"Never," Cecil breathed, and they both lifted their hands, bumping each other's fists.

"We aren't dead yet, people!" Edge laughed, skidding next to them and scratching his head – crystal dust fluttered out of his hair in a glittering flurry. "Although…I have to admit, I thought I was for a while there. I saw some pretty weird stuff while I was stewing in that crystal – including a guy with pointy horns checking a list for my name."

"You are truly an idiot," Rydia moaned, smacking Edge upside the head as she flanked Kain's other side. "I could hear all of our friends…their prayers, their well-wishes…both for us and for our beloved planet!"

"I might have heard something like that, too," Edge winked, and she responded with a gracious rolling of her eyes.

"Impossible!" The Creator screamed, several pustules exploding over her abdomen as they swelled red with her rage. "You're too weak…even when you mix your blood with those of superior beings, you are still not enough to usher this universe to a new era! Why do you insist on RUINING EVERYTHING!?"

"Because you are the one that is wrong!" Cecil shouted. "To you, we may seem weak and disposable – but our lives are tied by the deepest of bonds...bonds that give us strength and make us more powerful than we could ever hope to be alone! You, nor anyone else, shall ever tear them asunder – no matter what kind of trickery you employ with the crystals. My body will someday die, but the impact of my relationships with my friends and my family will be felt long after I am gone – my soul will always be proof that you failed to render us truly extinct!"

"Bonds!?" The Creator chortled, shaking her head. "You think I didn't have bonds with the comrades I watched die? You think I wanted to endlessly wander through space and time for the remainder of my days alone? You think all of the others who perished before you could have beaten evolution if they just _loved_ each other a little more? Your total and flagrant disrespect for my scientific research makes me sick…everything you are blathering on about is just a _fantasy_. And you are mere minutes away from colliding with your doomed planet – striking me down will do nothing to alter your fate!"

"In that case, I'll make it my final act to prove you wrong," Cecil hissed. "What you may deem a fantasy…is our reality!"

"Ugh…Cecil…!" Golbez collapsed to his knees with Ceodore at his side, the crystal shard bouncing out of his hands and sliding across the tile past the barrier of light. The Creator inhaled deeply, the crystal getting sucked into her gullet within seconds, and the barrier shuddered and disappeared with the breathy tinkle of a bell. Darkness fell upon them once more, so deeply penetrating that Cecil couldn't even see his hand in front of his face – the eight crystals above them had gone dark.

"The Creator is protected by the darkness!" Golbez moaned, lowering his head. "It must be cleared away… Let the crystals shine upon the darkness!" With a final gasp, he slumped to the ground, the last of his strength deserting him as he passed out on top of Ceodore.

"Darkness and light…they hold no consequence to me, and matter not," the Creator sneered, hovering closer. "Do you forget that I am the crystals' master? The crystals and the maenads…they will never turn against me – no matter how much you beg!"

"Everyone!" Cecil clenched his jaw, blindly grabbing both Rosa and Kain's hands in each of his own. "Give yourselves to the crystals – pour everything you have inside of them! We're the only ones left that can fill them with light!"

"I'm here, Cecil!" Rydia called, taking Kain's hand. "And so are all of my eidolons!"

"You have the whole of Eblan by your side," Edge added, gingerly taking Rosa's other hand. Instead of ducking away, she squeezed his hand assuredly, pulling him closer.

 _Thank you, my friends!_ Cecil thought, forcing himself to close his eyes even as the gleam of the Creator's bulging, percolating form drifted dangerously closer. _I can't be afraid…I can't be distracted…I have to remember…_

 _…Everything I am…it's thanks to_ _ **them**_ _._

 _Kain…you taught me how to listen to my heart, most importantly when I was too afraid to hear what it had to say._

 _Rosa…you've blessed me with true love…my living dream, my anchor to this world that keeps me from drifting back into a sea of darkness._

 _Rydia…time and time again, you remind me of the power of forgiveness, and the strength that can be found in redemption. Even after all this time, you still believed in the broken dark knight that demolished your village – enough so to risk your life standing up to the most powerful nation in the world._

 _Edge…It's because of you that I now know that loyalty is born from all types of friendships – old and new, those forged by blood and those forged by fire. You have one of the truest hearts I have come to know from any man – and I'm thankful you've kept a place for myself and my family in yours, even as the days turn into years before we speak again._

 _And Theodor – no,_ _ **Golbez**_ _– my brother…if it wasn't for you…I…I might have been the one who…_

"Father!"

Cecil felt a pair of skinny, but strong arms wrap around his waist, crushing the air out of his lungs. When he peered down, he saw Ceodore staring up at him, a lopsided smile framing the bow-shaped mouth he had inherited from his mother…

…And two enigmatic cerulean pools scrunched from laugh lines.

"Ceodore!" Cecil gasped, pulling the boy to him tightly. "Are you…"

But as his hands pressed into Ceodore's back, he realized he could feel the jutting curve of his shoulder blades through his tunic, and that no plate of armor separated the two of them in their embrace. Pulling back slightly, Cecil realized that his son was dressed simply in white jersey silk and black leggings, his feet bare and his headband missing – his hair was even more of a crazy mess than usual with spikes that went in every direction – faded back to its usual platinum hue.

Ceodore noticed the look of confusion on Cecil's face, his smile curving downward slightly.

"Sorry, Father…this is just a daydream. Or at the very least, not quite reality. But I heard your heart crying out – and I just wanted to let you know that no matter what may happen, I believe in you. There's so much else I wanted to tell you, but…" he blushed, pushing his hand through his hair. "…But I think this is most important for now."

"Ceodore…" Cecil shook his head, smiling. "When did you get so grown-up?"

"Maybe since I started realizing we have more in common than I ever thought," Ceodore tilted his head. "…And that our differences were because you only wanted to make things better for me than they were for you."

"Thank you, my son…" Cecil pressed his lips to Ceodore's forehead, closing his eyes. "Thank you for helping me realize what it was my own father was fighting for so long ago…the moment you came into this world…I finally understood what it meant to truly fight for the future."

He felt himself stumble forward as his hands plunged through warm air, and when he opened his eyes, he found Ceodore was gone. In the boy's place was the sword Cecil had received from the dark knight, sprouting out of cluster of crystal and brimming silently with hallowed light. When he lifted the blade, holy-tinged orbitals of magic raced through the curve of alabaster steel, transforming it into dazzling crystal and spraying over the floor, igniting violet firelight at Cecil's feet in the hanging darkness. He could feel everyone's power coursing through the chambers of his heart, racing through his veins with the speed of light and enkindling his every last cell with divine radiance: Kain's devotion, Rosa's love, Rydia's compassion, Edge's loyalty, Ceodore's resolve, and Golbez's courage. He could feel their strength pulsing through his fingertips into the weapon – hear the rhythm of their hearts reverberating with his as the blade silently shed its light…

 _So,_ _ **this**_ _is the true form of the dark knight's blade!_ Cecil thought, his heart racing wildly as he turned it over in his fingers. _Exonerated from my blood-stained past and blessed by the crystals' radiance…_

 _This is…the Lightbringer!_

Cecil's eyes snapped open just in time to see the Creator's monstrous jaws gnash hungrily in his face, the gleam of venom-laced jagged teeth a fraction of an inch from the tip of his nose as a spray of repugnant projectile vomit shot from the back of her throat. Before he could think to raise his shield in retaliation, the acid splashed harmlessly into an invisible barrier with a delicate ripple that bent the air in front of his face, igniting it into a swell of prismatic light that engulfed the party. A beam of light shot out from behind Cecil, plunging into the ceiling of the rainbow dome and releasing an explosion of angel feathers that rained upon them from above. One of the feathers brushed the top of his head and dissolved into moonlit dust, infusing him with a flux of adrenaline and speed that turned his muscles into pure electricity. Behind him were Rosa and Rydia, heads bowed and hands jointed together, their eyes resplendent with the reflection of magic detonating around them as they chanted the miraculous spell. At his side were Kain and Edge, weapons cocked and at the ready.

"This is the end of your experiment," Cecil said softly, the reflection of his gaze piercing him one-hundred-fold in the twitching, watery colony of eyes that hovered before him. He swung the Lightbringer over his head, leaping into the air and plunging it into the Creator's chest, the blade slicing cleanly through her back and tearing open an exit wound in the dead center of her wings. She wordlessly took in the stain of red and white that had splattered across hers and Cecil's chests, her eyes then trailing to Cecil's fingers still wrapped around the hilt above her breasts as the crystals above suddenly burst back to life, flooding the depths with sublime light. She reeled back, lifting her arms to shield her face and bleating faintly.

"These…these crystals... Why…do they betray me…?"

Her second mouth carved into the front of her body flapped uncontrollably like a fish fighting for oxygen outside the ocean. Cecil pressed deeper, gritting his teeth as he felt the Lightbringer tear muscle and marrow alike. "The crystals…are choosing life. They have become one with the Blue Planet's people…and life is what we pray for above all else!"

"Ugh…erg…" the Creator shuddered, slumping forward on Cecil's blade as her eyes slid shut and her arms fell to her sides. Behind her, her wings fell like wilted flowers crushed beneath a boot, feathers scattering into an unperceivable cosmic breeze. "You must...!"

"What?" Cecil frowned, leaning in so that her lips were inches from his ear. The Creator slowly reached up, pressing her frigid fingers over Cecil's hands and lifting her gaze to his. A silent scream rose in his throat as the light from the crystals caught her stare, igniting it the same brilliant cerulean as his own.

"Stop...stop me... _now_!"

She clutched hold of his hands, forcing the Lightbringer yet deeper inside of her and unleashing a tortured wail as rapidly-spreading fissures unfurled throughout her body, rays of ultraviolet shining through the gushing rivers of accompanying blood. Cecil staggered back, withdrawing his weapon as the she began to cough up orbs of light, violet flares erupting in the space between them.

"Cecil, look out!" Kain cried. "The crystal shard she swallowed…it's…!"

The sudden, violent shaking beneath Cecil's feet drowned out Kain's warning, but he had heard quite enough – he turned and fled, jumping from the mutated thorax of the Creator and crashing into the platform below in a clumsy dodge roll as her humanoid half exploded from the Holy spell the Lightbringer had cast upon her. The mutated half was detonating in a flurry of moonbeams, silver light slicing through the globs of quivering white and shooting into the galaxy above.

"The destruction has already begun..." the Creator rasped, her voice once again crackling over the speakers. Half of her humanoid anatomy had melted back into the waxy form she had first created them with, violet smoke from the spell leaking out of her pockmarked, leaking sores as she shrunk away from them. "My destruction... and that of this moon... You must run!" As if to prove her point, a colossal crash of thunder suddenly ripped across the sky, its strength nearly upending everyone standing on the platform below.

"Are…are you kidding me!?" Edge gulped.

"She's...trying to take us with her!" Rosa screeched, dropping Rydia's hands. Rydia blinked away the trance the two of them had sunken into, her face paling when her mind finally caught her up to the reality of their current situation.

"Then we...we need to _hurry_!"

As they scrambled to grab the eight crystals, Kain knelt over Golbez and Ceodore, a cluster of tiles collapsing only feet away. They shattered into diamond dust before sinking to the nothingness below, a bead of sweat sliding down Kain's forehead as he desperately shook Golbez's shoulders back and forth.

"This moon is already starting to fall apart! Wake up…wake up, now!" When he got no response, he drew his hand back, taking a deep breath and striking Golbez across the face with a deafening crack.

"Ugh…" Golbez moaned, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as his body twitched back to consciousness. "Did…you…enjoy that, Highwind…? A Raise spell would have been sufficient…"

"I'd enjoy it a lot more if we were anywhere but here," Kain snapped, grabbing Golbez's arm and hauling him to his feet. "Can you walk on your own?"

Golbez nodded, snatching his arm away warily as a hand-shaped stain of red began to blossom across his cheek.

Cecil knelt down, scooping Ceodore into his arms as he took one last look over his shoulder at the Creator. She was clawing at her melting face now, her bottom half spewing a cloud of innumerable toxins and bodily fluids as it distended in different directions like an overfilled balloon. Whatever was happening to her was nothing they could stop now…when she had assimilated with her vessel, she had most likely absorbed inside of her the controls to the moon as well. He realized with a sinking heart that they truly had no choice but to run, and rose to his feet, clutching Ceodore close.

"RETREAT!"

They bolted down the stairs single-file, a chorus of shattering glass clanging overhead as the platform they had been battling upon collapsed in on itself, chunks of crystal and metal raining from the sky that they were forced to dodge when they finally reached the level they had come in on. An earth-shaking roar discharged behind them, and the last thing Golbez saw before leaping into the waiting rune was the shadow of the battered and dying Creator only yards behind them, a trail of pus and acid dissolving their path in her wake – now they couldn't turn back, even if they had wanted to. She paused for only a moment, shuddering with an agonizing cough as something small and sparkling flew out of the mutated half's mouth, bouncing delicately on the pathway before sliding to Golbez's feet.

He bent down, snatching the acid-worn crystal shard and swiping it across his cloak to clean it off before dropping it into a hidden pocket.

 _She's following us…something inside of her still wants us dead, no matter what it takes!_

After rushing through the crystal graveyard, which was now teeming with herds of wild Behemoths that Rydia was able to clear out of their way with one of Leviathan's massive tidal waves, they found themselves back in the laboratory, where all hell was breaking loose. Hundreds of steam valves and frayed cords were shaken loose from the ever-worsening quakes, filling the lab with a sticky, obscuring haze that made it nearly impossible to see where the live wires were sparking, if not for their occasional spurts of light. The glass panels on the pods were all either shattered or thrown open, with not a single maenad to be seen within.

…That was, except for the one calmly blocking their exit, her curious amber eyes sweeping over them like a solar eclipse.

"You!" Cecil gasped as they skidded to a stop, the party nearly colliding into her.

The little girl from earlier pointedly ignored Cecil, tilting her head in Rydia's direction as she came running toward them from the rear. When she spotted the child, her eyes went wide with shock.

"You're still alive! Where did your friends go?"

The maenad rested her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised. "I waited, as you ordered..."

"…Seriously?" Edge muttered. "Does this kid have a death wish?"

Before Rydia could say anything more, a raucous crash greeted them from behind, one of the pods flying over their heads in the air and smashing into the wall above the threshold of the exit, a shower of debris following. Rydia cried out, shoving the little girl out of the way just as a twisted piece of metal crashed to the ground, fracturing the tile below into hundreds of cracked pieces and blocking their way out. As the Creator rounded a corner of now-decimated pods, they spotted another pod wrapped up in her endless black tongue that she was preparing to launch.

"Run!" Kain grunted, throwing his weight against the metal to push it out of the way as the Creator flicked her tongue into the air. Suddenly, a chorus of voices greeted them from above, a flurry of delicate white feet falling away from the exposed ductwork in the ceiling and touching down between the party and the Creator. It was three maenads, their right hands extended toward the Creator in mid-spell.

"Escape while you can. We will stop her." In tandem, they fired off three Flare spells, all of which collided with the Creator in a massive explosion.

"What!?" Rosa gaped, and Cecil shook his head, smashing his foot into the debris Kain had nearly shoved away as Ceodore jostled in his arms.

"Forget it! If they want to help, let them!"

The scrap metal finally crashed out of the way, exposing their exit once more. Rydia pulled away from the girl, who was staring at the backs of the maenads waging battle with the Creator, her eyes lightless pools reflecting only the searing light of the flames that had suddenly overtaken the pod the Creator had been carrying and was rapidly climbing their way up her tongue to consume the rest of her. Rydia fell back on her heels as she silently observed the child, her pulse throbbing in her ears.

 _I've seen this very same face in my dreams…countless times, in countless nightmares…ever since that day Cecil and Kain came to Mist..._

 _The face of a child watching as everything she knows and loves burns before her very eyes… Then the overwhelming despair sinks into the hollows of your bones where hope once lived…_

 _…and innocence dies upon the pyre of war forevermore._

"Come along with us!" Rydia burst out, and the party stared at her, dumbfounded, as the little girl absentmindedly reached up to smooth down the hair that was sticking out of her barrette. The spontaneous request did not seem to please or infuriate her – but after what felt like an eternity, she finally tore her gaze away from the other maenads, blinking up at Rydia.

"Understood..."

"Rydia…" Edge crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "…Are you sure? She'd small…but she's still with the enemy."

"I…I'm sure," Rydia mumbled, rising back to her feet as the little girl quietly fell into step behind her, waiting patiently for Kain to open the door. "Please, trust me."

And for once, Edge had nothing more to say. He shrugged, turning to Cecil and Rosa, both of whom were still eying the girl like she was a ticking time bomb.

"Well, if that's everyone…should we Teleport ourselves out of here while the maenads take care of the Creator?"

"Oh…Oh!" Rosa blinked, snapping out of her trance. She had only heard half of what he had said yet comprehended it entirely. "That's a great idea. Everyone, hold on to me!"

Rydia grabbed the child's hand as everyone huddled in close, and Rosa cast the spell. But when nothing happened, she pressed her hand to her mouth, gazing up toward the ceiling.

"It's too unstable in here…the dimensional folds that were keeping this place functional are twisting out of control. The magic just bounces around like a rubber ball against a wall…it doesn't know how to find us a path out."

"The garden where we fought Bahamut may be our best bet," Cecil offered. "The air in there felt different from everywhere else on this moon – it may be the only non-artificial environment left in this place that the Creator didn't warp to meet her needs."

"We'll try again there!" Rosa nodded. "Let's hurry for the gardens!"

As they threw the doors open to the next corridor, the battling maenads' collective pleas reverberated in all their minds, echoing as gently as the spill of a teardrop in the vast ocean in the same detached tone the mysterious girl had always used with them throughout their encounters.

 _"Watch that child…"_

In the stretch of the next corridor, the Creator once again forced her way through, laughing manically as she unleashed a cloud of poison gas that raced after the party in swirls of putrid violet.

"What happened to the maenads in the lab?" Rosa gasped. "Did the Creator…?"

The child glanced over her shoulder as Rydia desperately pulled her along, watching languidly as another pair of maenads teleported behind them and stalled the Creator with a flurry of black magic. Again, the distant voice of the mysterious girl cried out to them, and Rydia watched the girl silently mouth along with the voice, her eyes unblinking pools of liquid gold.

 _"That child is us."_

"Almost…there…!" Kain huffed, and Rydia gripped the child's hand tighter, lowering her chin to her chest.

 _This girl…she's your last hope to experience the world the way you've always longed to…isn't she?_

They tumbled into the next portal, which had appeared as soon as they approached – Cecil wasn't sure if it was the maenads' doing, or if the ship was so far-gone that everything was starting to short-circuit, including the Creator's magic. The party spilled into the garden, and Rosa wasted no time attempting Teleport again. A delicate haze of light had begun to wrap itself around their forms when a terrible tremble rocked the garden, sending surging plates of rock and crystal into the group and tossing them away from each other.

"Noooo!" Rosa shrieked, the spell fading from her mind as she smashed into one of the fallen archways. Above her, the Creator's bloated form squeezed out of the collapsing portal, drifting over her in a cloud of stink and rot that she had to cover her face from to keep herself from vomiting. The Creator had become a charred, broiled and decomposing mess – her humanoid figurehead had nearly completely melted into a puddle of gassy syrup that was dripping on the ground as she floated by, occasionally expelling bubbles that make a sickening cracking noise as they popped. The pulsing collection of eyeballs and spikes that made up her abdomen were dripping with an excess of green, brown and purple venoms, a section of which that would occasionally tremble and ripple beneath the mound of swollen white flesh to produce a new half-formed eye or impotent spike.

"Stay back!" Rydia cried, pushing the child behind her. The girl clung to Rydia's leg, gazing up at the Creator wondrously as Golbez, Edge and Kain pressed forward, shielding both they and Cecil, who was still holding Ceodore. He watched Rosa worriedly, but she frantically shook her head to deter him from taking any action, pressing a finger to her lips. She couldn't be sure, but she had thought perhaps the Creator had not noticed her – and she wanted it to stay that way for the time being. If the others could buy her enough time, perhaps she could…

"You will go no further!" Golbez growled, raising his sword. "This ends now!"

"The…child…" the Creator hissed. "Return her to me…she _must_ perish. She too, is a failure…like all the rest…the maenads…must not..."

"Creator, how could you...?"

A new maenad appeared before the party, her eyes watering as she approached the monstrosity with folded, shaking hands.

"Another one?" Cecil murmured under his breath.

"...She's terrified!" Rydia gasped.

"You want us to die…yet you are our father!" the maenad wept, taking a step closer, "… _And_ our mother! You taught us all you knew so that we could go into the world and seek out the crystals… In the end, did we truly not make you happy? Did we not assuage your loneliness? Did we not give you hope for a new future with each crystal we returned?"

"Ngh…argh!" the Creator wailed, her remaining eyeballs blinking in unison as another coat of foul fluid secreted out of her. "I…I can't let you…! Even my greatest creation…is not worthy…!"

Rydia felt the child shift behind her. The maenad was watching the adult version of herself, her lower lip slack as if she had been interrupted mid-sentence. Sensing the child's stare, the adult maenad slowly turned around, their eyes locking.

 _The maenads we met earlier said they were one,_ Rydia thought to herself. _Does that mean this little one saw everything her sisters saw while they were battling the Creator?_ She gritted her teeth, squeezing the girl's hand tighter. _What could be possibly going through their minds right now?_

The Creator's mouth fell open with a wet smack upon the crystalline floor, her charred, leathery tongue shooting out and snaking itself around the maenad's waist before she could even turn to see what was happening. A collective gasp rose from the party as the maenad was thrown to the ground and dragged across the tiles, kicking and screaming while being pulled into the Creator's maw. It did not go unnoticed that the Creator's dripping fangs were ensnared with strands of turquoise hair and splashes of blood, confirming the fates of the other maenads that had bravely intervened on their behalf.

"STOP!" Cecil cried, unsheathing the Lightbringer and shooting a flare of Holy magic square between the pair of eyes that were rolling in their sockets above the Creator's mouth. "That's your _daughter_ …your last hope for your people to finally experience the future!"

But he was already far too late – the maenad was swallowed whole with a swift gulp, a small hand aglow with a glittering black aura the last trace seen before the Creator gnashed her teeth shut. The little girl suddenly broke away from Rydia, staggering forward and collapsing to her knees as she drank in the Creator's gratuitous digestion of her sister. Frozen in place, Rydia could only stare as the child lowered her head, weeping under her breath as she slammed her palms to the ground and a familiar, cold voice poured out of her.

"That child…is _our future_!"

"That's the mysterious girl's voice…" Golbez blinked. "How is she…?"

A piercing whistle streaked across the sky, interrupting his thought. He looked up, watching as a flaming ball of rock came racing toward them across the gardens, a glittering tail of fire and starlight scarring the obsidian space with a pulsing afterglow in its wake. Moments later, hundreds more joined it, filling the sky and enkindling the gardens with garish incandescence.

"Meteor!" he and Rydia called out at the same time – as masters of black magic, both of them handily recognized _that_ spell. The first volley began to pound the Creator, a chorus of snapping bone and tearing flesh rising with the ash and billowing smoke of the spell's rampage.

 _The maenads…!_ Rydia gulped. _They could even wield the forbidden black magic, Meteor…?_

Rosa, finally satisfied that the Creator was distracted, folded her hands in prayer and lowered her head. The familiar, warm light of Teleport magic washed over her and the others once more, and she permitted her mind to go blank and free in the throes of the spell. She would carefully construct their destination in her consciousness one ingot at a time, and illuminate the blessed lanterns that would light their path with each exhalation of her breath.

"We're…glowing!" Edge gasped, raising his hands. Cecil's gaze immediately darted to Rosa, not being able to help but break into a wide smile.

"It's Rosa! She's trying to get us out of here…! Everyone, get close!"

"Come," Rydia sniffled, pulling the still-stunned little girl to her as the second wave of meteors that had been queued in the sky took their turn in the assault. They dashed past the Creator and the surrounding cluster of hovering rock, not able to bear even a peek to see what was left of her.

Rosa felt Cecil's arms wrap around her from behind and pull her into his chest – she would know that embrace anywhere, even if she had lost all of her senses – and she could feel the flutter of Ceodore's heartbeat against her back, too. A few seconds later, she felt the others scramble to take hold of her arms and legs and each other, her eyes snapping open as a pillar of light smashed into them from above. It was faint, but she could hear the voices of their friends calling out to them in the light, begging them to come home – their prayers had broken through the staggering, twisted dimensions of the True Moon and had paved their road to freedom.

"It's working…!" Rosa whispered, her voice fading away as the world around her became drowned in white. Cecil sank into her dissipating form, his eyes drifting shut as the Creator's voice danced over the last twinkling motes of light that burst behind his eyes.

 _"Th... Thank... Thank you..."_

 _"Thank you all!"_

* * *

 _Agart_

 _Now, maybe I can finally get some sleep_ , the scholar thought to herself, the mattress sinking beneath her backside with an agonizing groan. She had been up with Cory for the gods knew how long, measuring the movement of that dread moon in alternating shifts and wracking her sleep-deprived brain with mathematical calculations that would help them determine how long they had until it inevitably breached their orbit.

The number they had arrived at when all was said and done was of no comfort to her – it was hours, not days, that they had left until the collision, and Cory was fully convinced that no living being on their planet would ultimately survive.

"Certainly, there will be some people still left standing at first," he had depressingly droned on over his twentieth cup of coffee as she stared, dead-eyed, into the microscope and tried to concentrate on the measurements she was taking. "But it won't be long until the environment becomes unhospitable – water supplies will be contaminated, the planet will probably be knocked a few miles out of its orbit – that should be just enough of a difference for the sun to either be too far and we'll freeze to death, or too close and we'll all burn…oh, and the ultimate wild card, of course…"

"Which would be…?" the scholar asked irritably, setting down her pencil. She knew he wouldn't actually continue his little speech until she engaged.

"Humanity. We tend not to do well in crisis situations like this. The surviving population will probably fall to a war over resources before the environment kills them off, anyway."

"And that's my cue to get some sleep," the scholar groaned, standing up from the telescope. If she was going to have any chance of becoming a war-ravaged scavenger in this horrible new tomorrow, she needed her beauty rest. "May I be excused?"

And that was when she had made her way downstairs to the tiny bunk area for Cory's interns and staff, a journey she already couldn't remember making thanks to her utter exhaustion. Just as her head hit the pillow, she heard a dramatic shriek tear across the observatory that made her sit straight up, her heart pounding a mile a minute in her ear.

"My _goodness_!"

 _Damnation, Sir Cory!_ she silently scowled. _I'm going to be the one that kills you – not this moon or the planet – if you don't let me sleep!_ She took a deep, cleansing breath, soothing her rage with visions of stabbing Cory over and over again with her pencil and calling back to him in her "best behavior" voice.

"What is it, sir!?"

"The moon! L-look at it now!"

"Ugh…" She shook her head, reaching over for the curtains next to her bed and throwing them open. She wasn't sure why she had bothered to keep them closed – it was now so dark outside that they had been rendered useless – but she supposed that just because the world as she knew it was coming to an end, didn't mean she actually had to watch it go down.

She was half-expecting to see a swell of white blind her before the moon crashed directly into Agart – it would, rather ironically, she thought, being a burgeoning astronomer and all – be the last thing she saw before her demise, and that would be that – game over, the end, try again next time.

But instead, she was greeted by something far more extraordinary – she was so confused by what she saw that she not only rubbed her eyes and pinched herself to be sure she wasn't dreaming, but also rubbed her sleeve over the pane of glass, in case it had some weird film that was making her see nonsense. With all that done, she peered outside again, only to see exactly the same scenery: The twin moons were hanging in the sky, but the smaller, newer moon was shrinking in size by the second – just in the time she had looked away to pinch herself, it had already decreased in diameter by several inches.

 _It's…moving away from us?_ She wondered, pressing her palms to the window and taking in a sharp breath. _And quite rapidly, too…_ Moments later, a thin curve of light illuminated in the sky, emerging shyly from behind a wall of darkness.

It was the sun.

* * *

Rydia shook her head one last time for good measure, silently reaching for the switch on the panel that would shutter the window she had been staring out of for the gods knew how long. She had kept wandering over to it as she paced on the bridge, not able to believe for more than five seconds that her eyes were not deceiving her before going back to check on it again. She could tell that Luca was getting irritated with her – every time she opened that particular shutter, it released a spill of silver light that distracted Luca from her position in the cockpit where she was trying to steer them home. She had begged Golbez to override the newly-restored Crystal of Flight's controls so she could take the Lunar Whale for another, decidedly less-stressful, spin – and much to everyone's surprise, he offered her a half smile and conceded without argument. Rydia was sure that Luca's being accommodated was the only thing buoying her mood enough to keep her from launching her axe at Rydia's head.

"It's really leaving, isn't it…? The moon…" Rydia murmured. Her fingers were twitching anxiously, inches away from the switch. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt someone's breath on her neck behind her, and whirled around, only to see Edge staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Do I have to tie you up?" He grinned down at her hands, and Rydia flushed, her hands fluttering behind her back.

"That is not necessary."

He shrugged, his smile fading only a little as he gazed to the ceiling. "You think the Creator sent it away for us, just before the whole thing fell apart?"

"Maybe not for us," Kain frowned. He was standing across from them, perched against the railing that rose between the control panel and the Crystal of Flight. When Rydia looked up at him, his face was a splendor of golden light – she was briefly taken aback by how _noble_ he looked. "In the end, maybe she wanted to save her daughter after all…that child would have been wiped out with the rest of the maenads if we had not intervened. Perhaps the Creator grew a conscience in those final moments and understood that the child's best shot at survival would be if she came to the Blue Planet."

"I didn't think of it that way…" Rydia trailed off. The door to the bridge slid open, and Cecil and Rosa stepped inside. And behind them, bone-weary but smiling, was Ceodore.

"Ceodore!" Rydia exclaimed, running to him and pulling him into a big hug. "You're finally awake!" He laughed as he sank into her, patting her back.

"Hi, Rydia!" he pulled away, looking up at her curiously. "Hey, I just realized…you cut your hair, didn't you? Did that happen while you were fighting the Creator?"

"No," Rydia huffed, crossing her arms. "It was well before you decided to take your little nap! Boys are totally oblivious, aren't they?" Rosa giggled, and Cecil quickly looked away, pretending to find something on the wall very fascinating. He hadn't noticed a thing, himself…

"Well, in his defense, your hair is always a massive ball of knots, so who would notice if a foot or two was gone?" Edge snorted. Rydia gasped, spinning on her heel and raising her fist.

"Take that back! I thought you said you liked long hair on girls?"

"I…I do!" Edge stammered, turning red. "…Wait, when _did_ I say that? I don't remember…"

"About sixteen years ago, jerk face!" Rydia hissed. "We were in Cecil's throne room – it was just before he came down and told us Rosa was pregnant! Of course, you were probably three sheets to the wind by then…I seem to remember you being very intimate with a bottle of champagne."

"Oh, yeah," Edge blinked. "…You actually listened to me?"

"…I wasn't growing it out for you!" Rydia flushed. "But yeah, I remember what you said…but only because I don't have the memory of a goldfish. It's not a big deal!"

"…Edge and Rydia were there when you found out you were having me?" Ceodore smiled, his voice rising slightly to account for the bickering that had started to escalate behind them. "What was the occasion?"

"Nearly everyone was there that night! But it's a long story, dear," Rosa sighed, patting him on the head. "One your father can tell you some time – I wasn't around for most of it. Being pregnant with you was not exactly a picnic."

"Jeeze," Ceodore pouted. "I don't need to hear about that."

"Heh…" Rosa shook her head, pressing her fingers to her lips. "But now that I think about it…that was really when all this began, wasn't it? I never imagined that the crystals were created for that purpose, and that the Creator had us in her sights even all that time ago…I'm still in shock."

"What does this mean for the future of our crystals?" Kain frowned. "Their master is gone…along with all those other crystals in the graveyard that we couldn't save. But the light has not left our eight crystals since we fled the moon. And then we come back here to the Lunar Whale, only to find that the Crystal of Flight is restored as well… It's like none of this ever happened."

Cecil shook his head. "I have been wondering about that myself since we escaped. I almost feel as if it's not a matter of the crystals themselves. Regardless of their true purpose, it does not change the fact that they have always been a tool to our people…just like my sword or our magic."

"So, like any tool, it all depends on how we decide to use them, doesn't it?" Ceodore asked, and Cecil nodded.

"Where are the crystals now?" Cid called from across the room. He had been helping Luca co-pilot, being surprisingly reserved in his directives to her – so much so that they had forgotten he was in the room. When the seven of them had suddenly appeared on the Lunar Whale in the literal middle of Palom and Porom's prayer session, Cid had gotten so excited just to see them alive that he forgot to inquire if they had rescued the crystals or not.

"Golbez gave them back to their respective guardians," Rosa smiled. "Palom and Porom have the Crystal of Water, Edward and Harley the Crystal of Fire, Leonora the Crystal of Earth, Yang and Ursula the Crystal of Wind…"

"…And Calca and Brina are keeping watch over the Crystals of Darkness!" Luca chimed in. "They're tucked in with that little girl you found, having a slumber party."

Cid raised his eyebrows. "Ah, yes…the little…what did you call her?"

"She's a maenad," Rydia explained, her face falling as she lowered her head. "…The last of her kind, now."

"She is a cutie," Cid smiled. "Think she'd be interested in my Mid?"

"I…I can't even imagine how she would respond to that," Rydia murmured, and Edge laughed.

"Cid, if you want your grandson to learn how to be a lady-killer…you know only who to ask."

"Sure," Cid said dryly. "But it's nobody on this ship."

"Ouch," Edge groaned, but was still grinning like a fool. "I'll let that go, for now…on account of my being in such a generous mood after saving your arse…yet again!"

"Excuse me, you little punk!?"

"Sorry…but I'm starting to feel sleepy already," Ceodore yawned, making no attempt to cover his mouth as Edge and Cid started getting into it in the background. "I think I'm going to try to get some more rest before we get home."

"Good idea," Cecil nodded. "There will be a lot for us to do if our last conversation with the chancellor of Damcyan was any indication of what happened while we were gone."

"Are you sure you're OK otherwise, dear?" Rosa fretted, pressing her palm to Ceodore's forehead. "We still don't quite understand what the Creator did to you and Golbez…"

"I'm _fine_ , Mother," Ceodore squirmed out of her grip. "Honestly. The whole time I was gone…I could still hear you and Father, and all the others, calling out to me, giving me strength…I never felt alone. I'm just sorry that I wasn't able to help more."

"You've done quite enough," Rosa sighed. "Now go on – get to bed. We'll wake you when we're home."

 _Home…!_ Ceodore smiled as he turned to exit the bridge. _Never has that word rung so sweetly in my ears…_

He waved to the others as he passed them by in the commons – everyone was clustered in different conversations that seemed to blend into each other, the hope in the air so buoyantly thick that Ceodore was tempted to do a little leap into the air and pretend to grab some of it. The only thing that stopped him from his random outburst of joy was a pair of cool, champagne-tinged eyes he spotted watching him covertly as he drifted by. He offered a secret smile, not being able to help himself, and Ursula blinked, the corner of her mouth twitching as she quickly spun away and gave her full attention back to her conversation with Edward and Harley.

 _I think I get why Ursula likes teasing me so much now…it's kind of fun! I could get the hang of this…_

In the bunks, he passed by several occupied rooms – he knew the child Rydia had rescued was in one of them with Luca's dolls, and remembered how Porom had practically assaulted him as soon as he stepped into the hallway with one of her soft hugs that made him feel fluttery in his chest before she herself had retired. But a final room before the one he had claimed for himself had a door half-way open, and he noticed a towering figure in black paused at the room's porthole, lost in a trance – his eyes were reflective pools of starlight, the very essence of the cosmos themselves.

 _He has the same exact look Father gets on his face when I catch him staring at the moon…_

"Golbez?" Ceodore asked before he could stop himself, halting in front of the gap in the threshold. Golbez turned, one eyebrow raising as he took in his visitor.

"Ceodore. You're awake."

"Not for long. Just visiting with the others on the bridge took a lot out of me."

"As is typical with that particular group of individuals," Golbez smirked, and Ceodore couldn't help but choke out a laugh. Even if his parents and their friends hadn't met Golbez under such…acrimonious…circumstances, Ceodore didn't have a hard time believing that their personalities were such a clashing mix that they were still fairly happy with keeping each other at an arm's length when necessary to preserve the peace.

"So…" Ceodore scratched his head, his eyes nervously darting to the ground when he realized Golbez expected him to do something other than laugh awkwardly – he had been the one to interrupt the man, after all. "…I just wanted to thank you…for what you did. I don't remember much, but…my parents said you went after me when I fell under the Creator's spell."

"I did," Golbez said, resting his hand on his hip. "But it's nothing you have to thank me for. I'm afraid I wasn't very successful in stopping her from getting her claws into you."

"T-That doesn't matter!" Ceodore burst, clasping his hand over his mouth when he realized he had practically shouted – someone might come running if they heard him over the buzz in the commons, and he had wanted it to just be him and Golbez for a little while longer. "…I just mean…er… You didn't have to, but you did. At great danger to yourself, I might add. So…thank you."

Golbez tilted his head, and Ceodore could see the tendons in his neck tensing. "You are my kin, Ceodore – and I know too well the dangers of carrying even a drop of Lunarian blood in one's veins. No matter the Creator's intentions, I couldn't risk history repeating itself once more – I would never be able to forgive myself."

"History repeating itself?" Ceodore blinked. "What's so dangerous about Lunarian blood? I don't understand…"

Golbez sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. "…Cecil really hasn't told you _anything_ about me, has he?"

"N-No…" Ceodore stammered. "You and Kain…were both sore subjects, to put it kindly."

"Then I'm not sure it's my place to explain," Golbez frowned. "I don't want to give anyone the impression that I'm trying to exude any influence over your perception of me."

"But…" Ceodore shook his head. "You don't even know what my perception of you is – you've never bothered to ask. You've been acting like when this is all over, you're just going to go away again." He paused, realizing his voice had jumped a few octaves during those last few words. "…Are you?"

"I can't possibly answer that right now. We don't even know the state of the planet we're returning to."

"…Right. Of course," Ceodore muttered, his hand sliding down the doorframe as he turned to walk away. Why had he even bothered? "…Just understand this: I may not know everything that happened in your past, but I acknowledge that I only have one side of the story. I would welcome an opportunity to change my perception…but only if it meant the truth." He chewed his lower lip, bowing his head. "It's not right…that the crystals themselves know more about my _kin_ than I."

"Ceodore…" Golbez began, but he had already taken his leave, purposely slamming the switch outside the frame so that the door closed the rest of the way behind him. Shrouded in gossamer shadow, Golbez turned back to the porthole, his eyes narrowing at the startling glint of the starlight against the backdrop of the now-lightless chamber.

Within his hand, he clutched the surviving shard of the Lunarian's final crystal until the warm spill of blood traced his palm, splashing on the floor.


	38. Epilogue

Epilogue

* * *

 _Baron_

Cecil heard the shift of silk, his eyes sliding open moments later as a pair of hands planted themselves on either side of his chest, the spill of golden ringlets tickling his skin and blocking the creeping light of the morning sun. Rosa's flushed face came into view above his, and he arched his back, releasing a satisfying yawn and stretching his arms high in the air before letting them collapse over her shoulders and clamping down to drag her on top of him.

"You're up pretty early today."

"It's time to start getting back to our regular routine," Rosa smiled, nuzzling her cheek against his bare chest. "…Although I do kind of like how my mother's patented guilt trips have kept Ceodore in town these past few nights to keep her company."

"Please don't ever mention your mother in our bed again," Cecil groaned. "Honestly, Rosa!"

"Sorry," Rosa laughed, flicking the lobe of his ear. "I've just been so happy these past few days, I think I've completely lost my filter. Probably another good reason why we should be getting back to reality, eh?"

"Perhaps," Cecil relented, idly stroking her hair as he gazed out the window. The sky was a water stained mix of pinks and blues, the village below steeped in purple shadows that were slowly giving way to daybreak. "Although…Ceodore probably won't be here with us much longer, anyway. His squad captain will be insisting that he moves into the same dormitory as the other Red Wings sooner rather than later. It won't look good if Ceodore gets special treatment."

"I don't think he would _want_ special treatment," Rosa smiled. "I'm sure he's counting down the days until he can move out – seems like he went from being my baby to becoming a young man overnight."

"I hope he'll be alright, today," Cecil said softly, closing his eyes and sinking back into the pillows. "…I hope _I'll_ be alright."

"Cecil…" Rosa lifted herself off of him, gingerly pressing her mouth to his as her fingers trailed down the curve of his jaw. She could feel his muscles shifting tensely beneath her as she pulled back. "…You are both strong…and I think you both understand that this is for the best, deep down inside. It's not the same as before…you know?"

"Yes …but, even so…"

"I know, my love…and still…I'm so, so sorry…"

* * *

Spirits of the Earth

 _Troia_

"…And finally, please continue to bless the bounty of our land, so that we may not only continue to strengthen the hearts and minds of your people, but those all over the world who pray for the sanctity of our planet."

"Blessed be the crystal!"

The Epopt leading the morning's prayer rose from her knees, her golden hair ornaments jingling merrily as she lifted her head and gave a subtle nod. The remainder of the Epopts climbed to their feet at her cue, and Leonora's head snapped up, her eyes wide as her miter flopped over her forehead from the sudden movement – she had quite nearly drifted to sleep thanks to the soothing cadence of the Epopt's voice. These days, she felt like she could fall asleep anywhere, at any time, without warning – her body still had not quite recovered from her adventures, even though she had been treated as nothing short of royalty since her return home and hadn't had to deal with any of her usual chores or day-to-day drudgery. Although, that too would soon be coming to an end – the world was making a fierce comeback from its near-destruction; it seemed that everyone was anxious to get life back to as close to normal as possible. Leonora had understood before stepping off the Lunar Whale for what would be the last time that her role in the planet's restoration had only just begun. It was a terrifying notion, knowing that your life and everything you had once cared about had been irrevocably changed forever in the span of what had been a few days – but for some reason, she still couldn't manage to feel afraid, not even a little bit.

 _But even so, this is not the day to fall asleep during prayers,_ Leonora squirmed, discreetly pushing her hair out of her eyes as she adjusted her collection of hairpins and her hat. _Not today, of all days…!_

"I still can't believe the Crystal of Earth has returned...and in one piece, no less," another Epopt piped up, admiring the earth-toned jewel as it languidly spun above the dais in the crystal chamber.

"With today's executive order, our people can finally concentrate on rebuilding our proud nation," another Epopt said, and the others murmured their agreement. Behind them, a cluster of young women – former candidates for the open Epopt post – had come to join them in their prayers that morning in anticipation of today's special announcement. The Epopt who had lead the prayers turned to Leonora, who had gotten herself straightened out and was waiting patiently with a slight flush staining her cheeks, her hands folded at her waist.

 _Everyone is here to see_ _ **me**_ _,_ Leonora gulped. _Am I making a mistake?_

The Epopt cleared her throat, and the silence that filled the hall became deafening.

"Leonora...as of this day, you are to stand officially amongst our ranks – you have proven yourself more than worthy during not only your original trial, but in your efforts to help recover the Crystal of Earth."

"Not to mention the whole saving the world bit," another Epopt added, and they all shared a giggle, lowering the tension in the room a notch. Leonora blushed deeper as she stared down at her cornflower silk ballet slippers, her heart racing so hard that she was positive everyone in the castle – maybe in all of Troia – could hear.

"I...I... Thank you so much! Um... If I may, however..." She lifted her head, her gray eyes shining with the crystal's luster as she choked out her request. Her voice had fallen so quiet that none of the candidates behind her could understand what she was saying, save for a tall woman in a skin-tight pink gown, her hair swept into a messy ponytail and her ruby-red mouth pressed together in glee as she read Leonora's lips.

"Hee hee..."

"What is she asking, Izzy?" Lila whispered from next to her.

Before Izzy could reply, the Epopt suddenly pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening as her sisters began to mutter among themselves.

"…What?"

* * *

The Celestriad

 _Mysidia_

"There you are!"

Palom didn't even blink as his sister swept into the crystal chamber, her sandals clacking noisily as she made her way to the dais and stared at him through the crystal, waiting with baited breath for some kind of acknowledgement. Finally, he lifted his eyes, pushing his hair out of his face and stretching as he forced out a yawn.

"Mm-hmm – what's up?"

Porom could hardly contain her excitement – she wasn't even irritated that Palom had taken his sweet time to say anything to her. "The Elder wants to see you."

Palom suddenly dropped his arms, his eyes bugging out of his head. "He's woken up!?"

"He sure has!" Porom squealed. "Let's go!" She snatched his hand, and he let her drag him out of the crystal chamber and down the stairs to the room the Elder had been recovering in on the ground floor of the tower. As soon as Palom rounded the corner, he felt his heart sprout wings and soar out of his chest – the Elder was sitting up in bed, sipping from a clay mug as Meghan busied herself around him, straightening a cart full of medications, food and water and occasionally reaching over to fluff his pillow or tug on his sheets. Palom and Porom made their way to his bed, each one of them taking a side as the Elder finished his drink, setting the mug on a nearby nightstand. In seconds, Meghan had swooped in, scooped it up, and begun to refill.

"Palom... You've returned," the Elder smiled, and Palom crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.

"Elder, what were you thinking? You know you aren't so young anymore. Porom and I have been back for days…and I've been worried sick the whole damn time!"

"Palom!" Porom huffed, and the Elder shook his head, chuckling.

"It is quite all right, Porom. He only states the truth," he looked up at her twin brother, his smile fading. "I was wondering, Palom…now that you've returned from your very successful mission in Troia, have you made a decision about your sage training quite yet?"

Palom flushed, turning away and shaking his head as he muttered. "That can come later."

Porom blinked, wondering if she had heard correctly. "Huh!?"

He shrugged, arching a brow. "Come on. You know as well as I do how helpless Mysidia would be without me. I can't possibly take on such intense training at a time like this."

 _Who the hell is this impostor?_ Porom gaped, and the Elder clapped his hands together, a riotous laugh escaping from his lungs that quickly dissolved into a rattling cough.

"Ah, long have I awaited those words!"

"Drink, Elder," Meghan interjected, shoving the mug back into his hands. He took a long swig as Porom tried to get Palom to look at her – his face was streaked with red, and she could swear she saw the tiniest glimmer of water in the corner of his eye.

 _Palom…if training means that much to you…you shouldn't be forced to stay here. I can support the Elder, and the other mages will be around to help, too. I can't sit around and watch your dreams die on the vine – you deserve to be happy, brother…you deserve to live your own life._

"Elder..." Porom began, but he set the mug down, raising a hand to silence her.

"So, with all that said, from this day forward, I leave Mysidia in the hands of you both."

"Wha...!?" Palom screamed so loudly that Meghan nearly toppled into the medicine cart.

"Elder, you couldn't!" Porom cried. "We are yet still unprepared for the job – and I do deign to speak for both of us!"

"She's right," Palom nodded, scratching his head. "…Huh, that's something I never thought I'd say. But in all seriousness, she _is_ right."

"Thank you, brother," Porom nodded curtly. "See? Even he agrees."

The Elder chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, you'll be fine... as long as the two of you are together. Black and white. Darkness and light. Male and female. Your differences are exactly why I am sure you will lead us along the right path – you are each other's greatest strengths, and most crippling weaknesses – you will be an unstoppable force that will bring Mysidia kicking and screaming into the future, I am quite sure!"

"Wait…" Palom leaned over the bed, sticking his nose in the Elder's face. "You... These aren't your last words or anything, are they?"

"Palom!" Porom blanched. "What are you...!?"

"Ugh!" the Elder shoved Palom's face away with his hand, groaning. "You are still a cheeky fool! Back to training with you – you've obviously still got much to learn about decorum!"

"Sure thing," Palom smiled, standing back up. "Just don't keel over on us yet, eh, Elder?"

"Palom!" Porom gasped, but she couldn't help but giggle behind her hand. "…Never change, OK?"

"Not planning on it," Palom grinned. "I've gotten this far being me…not gonna stop now."

At that moment, Anja stepped into the room, bowing slightly and shoving her straw hat away from her face so that it fell down the back of her neck.

"Sir Palom, a visitor from Troia is here."

"Oh?" Palom blinked, not even bothering to reprimand her for using the formal title he hated so much. "Well, bring him in."

" _She_ wanted to wait outside," Anja drawled. "She's by the pond out front."

When Palom and Porom stepped outside into the blinding glare of another sunny summer day, it took a few moments for their eyes to adjust before realizing who their visitor was. Porom squealed and bolted down the hill, waving her hand excitedly.

"Leonora!"

Leonora turned, lifting a billowing sleeve to shield her eyes from the sun and breaking into a cheerful smile as she waved back.

"Porom! Palom! I'm so glad you're actually here! I thought for sure you would already be on another adventure."

The two girls hugged, Porom stepping aside as Palom made his approach – she noticed his gait had slowed considerably once he had seen who was waiting for them. Leonora smiled up at him, oblivious, lifting her arms for a hug and then realizing that he certainly didn't seem to want one, based on the stormy look that was crawling over his face. So, she awkwardly lowered them again, dithered about nervously and finally decided on offering a hand for a nice, chaste handshake. He gave her hand the side-eye and pointedly crossed his arms over his chest, shutting that request down in an instant.

"If you're looking for me to teach you something, then I'm afraid you're out of luck. You've got everything you need."

"I...I understand that," Leonora said softly, lowering her rejected hand.

"So, why'd you come here, then?" Palom tilted his head. "What about the Epopts and everything?"

 _Aha._ The light came on in Porom's mind. _That's right…Leonora seemed pretty anxious to get home once we made it back from the True Moon. I'm sure Palom took that to mean she was blowing him off, since he can never NOT be the center of attention – I bet he didn't even bother to ask her what she was thinking, and just assumed the worst._

 _Typical male._

Leonora laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her head. "Actually I...I gave it all up."

"Whaaa!?" Palom gasped, his jaw dropping. Porom pressed her lips together, trying very hard to use her least mom-like tone.

"Why, Leonora?"

"Th-there are lots of Epopt trainees in Troia...most of them much more suited for the post than I am. I realized that while we were on our journey…and it all just sort of solidified once we came back home. I wanted to be sure to sort everything out properly with the Epopts before I l-left."

"So, what're you gonna do now?" Palom frowned. Leonora gazed up at him, pressing the tips of her fingers together.

"I...I thought I would start on the journey towards becoming a sage."

"Are... are you serious?" he choked, and she stepped back, wincing.

"Wh-what? Is...is that so strange?"

"Not at all!" Porom interrupted, sliding between a stunned Palom and an uncertain Leonora as she slapped Leonora on the back a little too hard. "I'll give you all the help you need – you'll stay here with us, of course."

"R-really!?" Leonora gasped. "I won't be a burden?"

"Of course not!" Porom smiled. "Right, Palom?"

"R-Right…" Palom shook his head, stunned at how quickly everything was happening. "N-Not at all…"

"Ah, that reminds me," Leonora smiled, turning away from Palom – he was giving her the strangest half-smile, half-grimace that both titillated and frightened her, and she was grateful to have a legit excuse to ignore him for a moment. "I've been doing some research – I may have found a way to restore your hair."

"My hair?" Porom blinked, and Leonora nodded, gently taking hold of Porom's ponytail between her fingers.

"Yes. On the Lunar Whale, while I was recovering…Palom told me about how he accidentally turned your hair pink when you were children and how it upset you so much. It just so happens that changing your hair color is quite popular in Troia – all the girls do it, and there are magic spells and items they've concocted for that sole purpose. If you give me some time, I think I could find how to make it match Palom's again!"

"Leonora…" Porom felt her eyes water, and she had to quickly swipe her tears away. "That is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever offered to do for me. But…the truth is, I've grown rather attached to my pink hair now."

"Wha?" Palom gasped. "Since when? You were giving me hell about it up until the day I left for Troia, it felt like!"

"Since we got home, actually," Porom smiled. "But I'd rather show you than tell you. I'll be right back!" She bolted back up the hill toward the tower, and Leonora and Palom turned to each other, their faces a matching shade of red as they sized each other up.

"Well, whatever. Guess I'll be babysitting you a while longer."

"Y-yes!" Leonora squealed. "Although…um…er…"

"What? Spit it out already. You keep up that stuttering on the battlefield, and you'll be crushed to dust before you can utter a single spell."

Leonora twisted her ponytail around her fingers, raising her eyes. "…M-maybe it doesn't have to be babysitting…all the t-time?"

Palom blushed deeper, pressing his hand to his mouth. "Leonora…what are you…?"

"HERE!" Porom exclaimed, leaping between them from seemingly nowhere and brandishing a rectangle-shaped scrap of canvas. Leonora eagerly took it from her, and Palom turned away, taking a quick moment to strategically position the way his jacket fell over his hips.

"Oh my!" Leonora cooed as her eyes fell over the delicate strokes of paint. "Look at this cute pregnant woman! She's about to pop! And this handsome man next to her…he…" She raised her eyebrows, peering over the picture at Palom. "Gosh, he looks a lot like you."

"Those are our parents," Porom smiled, pointing to the man next to the pregnant woman. "Our father, and…" she slid her finger over to the pregnant woman, who had a thick crown of cascading pink hair tumbling over her shoulders. "…Our mother, when she was pregnant with us. And this man on her other side is the Elder when he was young."

"What!?" Palom blinked, snatching the canvas out of Leonora's hands. "Where did you get this? How come I've never seen it before?" He snuck a glance at Leonora. "Also…you think I'm handsome?"

"I was planning on showing it to you soon," Porom explained as Leonora turned way, her hands flying to her cheeks. "It's just that things have been so crazy since we got home, we've hardly had a quiet minute together. While Meghan and Anja were helping clean out some of the Elder's things to make his room more comfortable for him, they stumbled upon this and saved it for us. Look at the back."

Palom flipped it over, reading the penciled inscription aloud.

"Mysidia, Tower of Prayer, September 1." He shook his head. "This is…"

"The day before our birthdays," Porom smiled. "They must have come to the tower for a ceremonial blessing…maybe they knew we were on the way."

"Huh," Palom smiled a little, shaking his head. "You really do look just like her. Does this mean my spell just hurried along what would have happened anyway?"

"That's hard to say, of course," Porom shrugged. She didn't want him to feel like he was getting off _that_ easy. "But…after seeing this picture…I've decided that I really like having a small part of Mom with me…wherever she may really be. It reminds me of how far I've come, and how much growing I've yet to do."

"A good perspective to have," Leonora sniffled. "Happy endings are just the best!"

"Ah, that's not all I brought with me, however!" Porom grinned. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small box and popping it open. Inside were three freshly-polished silver rings, each adorned with a delicate star that glimmered in the sun.

"What are those?" Palom smirked. "More cheapo jewelry? You've got to ask for a raise with your new position!"

"Not as cheap," Porom laughed. "I wanted to get us rings to replace the ones that the mysterious girl damaged – the shop girl said that these were the last set she had, and she wouldn't break it up. But now…I think it was meant to be!" She pulled all three rings out, distributing one to Palom, one to Leonora, and then sliding one onto her own finger.

"I love it!" Leonora exclaimed, holding up her hand. "Maybe we could infuse them with some magic and try more Twincasting as part of my training!"

"Precisely what I was thinking," Porom nodded, and Palom huffed, crossing his arms.

"Hey now! _I'm_ her teacher! Don't go making up curriculum without me…"

"That can all wait until tomorrow," Porom smiled, taking Leonora's hand. "Come on – I'll show you around. We can stay in my room until we get a proper bed made up for you – I've got plenty of space!"

"I can't believe YOU'RE saying lessons can wait!" Palom gasped. "But, you know…Leonora can stay in my room, too! Porom snores like an ogre…"

"No!" both the girls shouted, turning to each other at the same time and laughing before disappearing over the hill, Palom scrambling after them. In one of the newly-blossoming bushes near the pond, a small frog crept out in the protection of the shade, croaking happily as he watched Porom's ponytail bob away in rhythm with the much more noticeable spring in her step.

 _Good for you, Porom! I hope I'll get to be in class again with you someday…_

* * *

A Clockwork Dream

 _The Underworld_

"Well, I'll be. So that's what the crystals were made for..." Giott scratched his beard. "I'd never believe such a tale if it wasn't coming from you."

"Yes, Father," Luca nodded. "I didn't even tell you the craziest parts of the story…but we'll save that for another day."

"…It's all over my head, anyway," Giott shrugged, stepping away from crystal and taking the stairs two at a time down the dais. Luca blinked, stepping out of his way.

"What part didn't you get? I could try to explain it again if you like."

"No, no, it's not like that. If you ask me, we dwarves aren't meant to sit around all day, pondering the mysteries of the world. We should keep it simple, you see? And I don't see why we shouldn't protect our crystals the way we always have – I don't think it necessarily matters _why_ they were put here – it's what they are doing for our world now that matters most."

"...Maybe you're right," Luca smiled. "You could say the same about any one of us, I suppose."

The crystal chamber's door suddenly flew open, a flurry of manic footsteps bouncing in the air as Giott and Luca spun around.

"Luca!"

"Mid!" Luca exclaimed, running up to the little boy and swinging him around as he let out a squeal. A few moments later, a robust form filled the doorway, and Cid lumbered in, letting his goggles snap in place over his forehead as he pulled them away from his eyes.

"Ah, there you are – Mid, what did I tell you about taking off like that?"

"Cid and Miniature Cid are welcome to roam this castle whenever you please," Giott beamed, and Mid threw his arms around Luca's neck.

Cid sighed, shaking his head. "At this rate, you're going to spoil him rotten – it's bad enough the stuff Cecil lets him get away with in Baron Castle – stuff that would make the former king roll in his grave, may the gods rest his soul."

"You didn't come here just to complain about how relaxed our normally so very tightly-wound Cecil has gotten, did you?" Luca grinned, and Cid guffawed, spitting his pipe out of his mouth and stuffing it into a breast pocket.

"'Fraid not. My grandson wouldn't stop whining about how much he wanted to see you, so..."

"Oh, Mid!" Luca giggled, bopping him on the nose before setting him down. "Promise you'll never get sick of wanting to see me, unlike some other cretinous boys I know!"

"I promise, of course!" Mid beamed. "You're my favorite, Luca!"

"Well, that's just perfect!" Luca giggled, her heart melting into a pile of sticky goo. "Come, to the Falcon! I've got a job you can help me with."

"Whoa! What, already?" Cid laughed. "We just got here! Don't you dwarves have high tea, or something? Anything that involves bite-sized cakes?"

"Eh, come on!" Luca laughed, nodding toward Mid, who was anxiously pulling her toward the door. "You can stay for dinner – but you have to help me finish my work, first. In the Underworld, a dwarf does not come to the dinner table until he has finished his day's work and helped his comrades finish theirs!"

"Might I remind you that despite my appearance, I am not a dwarf?" Cid inquired, although the flash of his teeth gave away that he was joking. Giott shook his head, watching as Luca and Mid disappeared through the threshold.

"This is your fault, you know. If you hadn't awarded her an engineer's license…"

"Bah," Cid dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. "There was no "awarding" about it – she earned it, fair and square. She's an amazing woman, Your Highness – but I'm telling you something you already know."

"Yes, yes," Giott smiled. "I was always terrified that I would never be enough for my little girl…a child needs her mother, especially one growing up in the glare of spotlight that being a royal brings. But I guess I did something right…although I'd still say Luca did most of the work. She's as headstrong and brilliant as Queen Helaine was in the peak of her life…I know if she were here, she would be proud of everything Luca has become."

"We're _all_ very proud of her," Cid smiled. "…So, does this mean you've given her leave to help with the mission Cecil inquired about?"

"Mmm-hmmm," Giott nodded. "As much as it pains me to see her go so soon after just coming home, I know in my heart this is the right thing to do – and of course, she would give me hell anyway if I told her no. I'm learning how to choose my battles – and it's only taken me twenty-one years. Imagine that?"

* * *

On the deck of the Falcon, Luca was kneeling over the chamber for the missiles she had first debuted when she had rescued Rydia in front of the entrance to the Feymarch, explaining to Mid what she had encountered with her latest test run just a day prior.

"Right now, this is just positioned a little too closely to the engine – if you ready the missile for firing and wait too long, the whole thing overheats and explodes."

"That's the giant hole there?" Mid asked, pointing to the gaping pit of black and splintered wood next to them, and Luca nodded, grimacing.

"Yep…moving the engine isn't an option right now…it takes up too much space as-is. If I'm going to get that far in, I'll be completely rebuilding it from scratch to be small and more energy-efficient. So, I was thinking if I installed a cooling panel, right around here…"

"Oh! Say, that makes good sense!" Cid exclaimed. Luca and Mid turned, peering up at him as he stroked his beard. They had been so engrossed in their work, they hadn't even heard him come aboard. "How did you come up with that?"

Luca turned the slender sheet of metal over in her hands. "This was just a little something I picked up while examining the Lunar Whale's engine. I infused this with the same types of naturally-occurring essences I use to give Calca and Brina their magic powers – but since I didn't want to risk the panel eventually losing its potency, I cheated and asked Rydia if she could get me some Diamond Dust from Shiva, instead. So far, it's working like a charm – it's as cold as the day I got my hands on it!"

"I would have never thought of that," Cid shook his head, amazed.

Luca frowned, resting her cheek against her palm. "We need to do something about this part here, though..." She demonstrated by attempting to slide the panel in, where it came to a stop half-way. "I've calculated that this is the exact length I need to sufficiently cool the magazine…but…"

"Mmm… How 'bout this?" Mid asked, gently pulling the panel away and reaching to his belt for a screwdriver. After digging around for a few minutes, he stepped back, gesturing for Luca to try again. She slid the panel in place, her eyes lighting up as it slid perfectly inside, resting in its desired location with a satisfying "click".

"Wow! Mid, that's perfect!"

"Hah hah! That's my boy!" Cid grinned, and he and Mid exchanged high-fives. The stomp of boots on the deck greeted them as Giott appeared over the ramp, a collection of his guards in tow.

"If there is anything you need on Cecil's behalf, Cid, do not hesitate to let me know."

Luca stood up, dusting her hands off on her romper and pulling off her visor to drag her palm over her sweaty forehead. It was another blazer in the Underworld…just like any other day. "Hmm... Well, we could really use some crewmen, actually. They're still working on recruiting all over again for the Red Wings, right? Having our own crew for the mission would be really helpful."

"Lali-ho!" one of the guards jumped in the air. "His Majesty is free…maybe he should come along!"

Giott flushed. He was in what he considered a priceless debt to Cecil and the others, once again…diplomatic protocol would mandate that he should join, even though he really, really, REALLY didn't want to leave his kingdom behind for more than a few hours, let alone something that might take weeks, or even months, when all was said and done. "Dah! All right, all right! I'd be happy to help out!"

"Oh, Father, you wouldn't understand anything on this ship!" Luca rolled her eyes. "I was talking about your bodyguards! Let me borrow some of them."

 _Oh, thank the gods!_ Giott chuckled. That, he could easily arrange for – there were plenty of dwarves, unlike himself, that shared Luca's thirst for adventure and exploration.

"Nari-ho!" another guard exclaimed, popping into the air and doing an odd little half-spin before crashing back into the ramp with a sickening crunch that erupted in the air. "Ah…ooooh…my knees just aren't as good as they used to be…!"

 _Maybe not that guy,_ Luca thought, chewing on her lip. _When is he going to finally retire? I seem to see him limping around here more often than walking._

The other guards turned to him, shaking their heads. "How many times do we have to tell you!? It's "lali-ho"!"

* * *

On the Horizon

 _Fabul_

Dawn's light filtered through the sheer panels of the throne room's windows, puffs of azalea-scented air fanning them outward with a delicate "whoosh" every couple beats. Sheila swept through in her usual flurry of rustling skirts, giving each monk guarding the throne a wide smile as she made a beeline for the crystal chamber. It was the same routine she had every morning, carried forward from long before she had become Queen – rising with the sun, cooking a hearty breakfast for Yang (and later, Ursula, too), and after ensuring that neither her husband or her daughter would slump off back to bed, visiting the crystal chamber solo for her morning prayers.

As she made her approach that morning, she caught the snippets of a conversation between the duke consort and the chancellor through the door, which had been left ajar. She cleared her throat nearby as a means of announcing herself, but neither man seemed to hear her. She spied them both gazing at the crystal floating high above, returned to its usual splendor as if the last couple days had been nothing but a bad dream.

The duke consort pressed his lips together, shaking his head in quiet awe. "The moon is truly gone...and the Crystal of Wind is safe once more."

The chancellor turned toward him, crossing his arms. "I wonder, though... Now that we know the crystals' true nature, can things ever truly be the same?"

"Well, what difference does it make?" Sheila asked, pushing the door open and making her way to the crystal dais where just days before, Kain Highwind had held a lance to her throat. The chancellor and duke consort both nodded to her, which was about as much of a formal greeting she would let them get away with on a daily basis – she didn't like being bowed to, being called by any title, or any other insinuation that she was any different than the commoner Sheila of seventeen years past. Sheila peered up at the crystal, her heart skipping a beat as she drank it all in. The beauty and grace of their crystal never got old – she swore she could even see a flash of Ursula's eyes in the citrine glare.

"People pray to the crystals because the crystals are always there for them. Even when they are spirited away and taken into the vast reaches of unknown worlds…they still always manage to find their way back home. They are a unifying force...everyone wants to help protect and take care of them."

"Hmmm. Makes sense," the chancellor nodded. "When you put it that way…nothing's really changed at all."

"I could not have stated it better," the duke consort chuckled. "Sheila…such eloquence is becoming of you."

She shrugged, letting out a low snort. "No need to compliment me. That's just how my husband put it."

The chancellor and duke consort shot each other a look. _Ah, of course._

"Speaking of Master Yang, where is he right now?" the chancellor asked.

"Training, of course. With Ursula," Ursula smiled. "They've been at it for sixteen hours a day ever since coming back home! I've seen less of them now than when they were off chasing after that girl and the crystals."

The duke consort shook his head. "My. It is strange to think back to when Yang treated Ursula like a rare, fragile jewel... Do you know what changed?"

Sheila giggled. "I think my silly husband said it best himself: 'How can I believe in my people's future if I cannot even believe in my own daughter?' Neither of them has filled me in on everything that happened while they were away, but…" She shrugged. "Eventually, they'll get sick enough of each other that talking to me will seem appealing again, at least for a little while. I can be patient."

* * *

"YAAAAH!"

"UGH!"

Ursula crashed into the garden wall behind her, clutching her stomach as she flopped over to her side and curled into the fetal position, her vision fading in and out with each ringing footstep that approached her. When she had finally mustered the strength to lift her head, she saw her father standing over her, his hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised.

"I told you I was not going to go easy."

"Y-yes, Master!" Ursula gasped, clenching her teeth through the pain as she forced herself to sit up. It felt as if all of her ribs had been rearranged into a jumbled traffic jam of muscle and bone – if she ever fit properly into her clothes again after this, it would surely be a miracle.

"Is that the best you can do?" Yang asked calmly, and she shook her head, taking one last punishing breath before leaping back to her feet.

"N-no, Master! I'm not done yet!"

Yang smiled, fluidly shifting into his readying stance. Before he could even blink, Ursula's foot was flying toward his face, the scuffed and ragged bottom of her slippers the last thing he saw before his legs flew out from under him, the force of her attack sending him into a crashing heap among freshly bloomed – or rather, now, freshly crushed – flowers. Even as the thin drizzle of blood slid down from his nose to his lips, he couldn't help but let out a bellowing laugh. How long had it been since he had made a rookie mistake like that, letting his guard down for even a split second?

In the ramparts high above the gardens, Gekkou turned away from the fight below, pressing his back to the wall as he drummed his fingers upon his forearm.

 _Hmm... I suppose Fabul has its own honor to uphold, as well._

* * *

In the Light of the Crystal

 _Damcyan_

Harley flipped page in her notebook, finishing up the last of the day's observations as her pen flew across the pages, miniscule drops of black ink spraying over her palm while she wrote.

"So, the crystal is the same as always?"

"Indeed," Edward nodded from beside her. She completed her entry with a hurried date and her best estimate of the time – Edward had never kept a clock in his throne room, being someone who did not care much to be frequently reminded of the passage of time – and she had left her watch on the nightstand of her bedroom. She could picture exactly where it was sitting, even though she had not spent much time in there since returning home. Just thinking about why that was made her cheeks ignite with flames, and she became so distracted by the effort to get them back to their normal pallor that she hadn't noticed Edward begun talking again. "I cannot help but think that our crystal is different...different from all the other crystals the Creator has made."

"Huh?" Harley blinked. "How so, my lord?"

"Our nation believes in this crystal, yes...but it would have taken more than that for it to recover its light. More than our prayers, too."

"...Are you suggesting that the crystal itself is evolving, too?" Harley widened her eyes. "Is such a theory even probable?"

"Perhaps," Edward turned to the crystal once more from where they had been standing in the threshold between the crystal chamber and the throne room. "Perhaps it has responded to the evolution we ourselves carry in our hearts...I would like to believe that, anyway." He smiled sadly, looking up at her. "Do you think that makes me too much of a romantic?"

"Not at all," Harley shook her head, her fingers flying up to the bridge of her nose out of habit to push back the glasses that were no longer there. She had never realized what a nervous tic that was for her until she no longer had anything to actually fidget with. "There is a place in this world for science, truth, and indisputable fact…but all of those can live side-by-side with magic, wishes and dreams…in fact, I'd say they complement each other very nicely."

"…Me too," Edward smiled shyly, extending his hand. Harley lowered her gaze, her breath caught in her throat as she slammed her notebook shut, inching forward to meet him.

"Your Majesty!"

Harley and Edward both leapt a foot in the air as the chancellor bounded in, their respective hands flying back to their sides. The chancellor's cap was flying half-off his head as he skidded in front of them and doubled over to catch his breath.

"There you are! Ah, and Harley, too! I've been looking all over for both of you." He peered up at Harley, his face brightening slightly. "I'm still not used to you without glasses. Is that magic spell really working that little girl cast on you?"

"Little girl?" Harley huffed. "You mean Leonora, Troia's newest Epopt?"

"Er…yes…"

"You'd best remember her true title the next time you see her," Harley lectured, wagging her finger. "But…to answer your question, yes, the magic is still working beautifully. She called it a "Sight" spell – it was a lifesaver on the way back home from the True Moon with my glasses being shattered. I could rather get used to this, I think!"

"And what was it that you were in such a hurry to find us for, Chancellor?" Edward pressed, slightly salty about the interruption. The chancellor stood up straighter, scratching his head.

"Oh dear, I seem to have forgotten already…ah, wait, it's coming back to me! Have you obtained the material we were discussing earlier? We're due to have it ready by sunset for pickup."

"Harley?" Edward gestured toward her, and she nodded, tapping her pen against her notebook in lieu of no longer being able to play with her glasses.

"Yes, my lord. I have made all the necessary arrangements. Everything and everyone will be in their proper place tonight."

"As I would expect," Edward winked, and Harley flushed again, whirling around before the chancellor could get a good look at her. His gaze bounced between the two of them, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Then, Your Highness…" He bowed quickly, turning to take his leave. Harley started to follow him, calling over her shoulder that she would catch up with Edward later – she needed to get her hands on that darn watch, and had just remembered that she had promised to meet with two promising inventors from Kaipo about funding their project to mass-produce something called a Hoverbike – surely they would be here any moment now if it was as late in the morning as she suspected. And just like that, she had snapped back into serious Harley mode – the sudden transformation always made Edward laugh, especially now that he had been able to see more of her not-so-serious side as of late.

Edward gave her a wave in reply, turning to lock up the crystal chamber. Just as he was about to place his signet ring into the hidden depression within the wall, he swore that he saw the shadows of two figures gazing at him from within the crystal's core, twin sets of indigo orbs flickering in the oscillating radiance that bounced off the mirrored chamber walls. Edward pressed his hand to his chest, smiling through the rush of tears that had silently sprung to his eyes.

 _Anna... Tellah...from the bottom of my heart, I thank you both. I know now that thanks to the crystals' light, you will always be by my side…even so, I do look forward to the day we will meet again._

 _I know you understand that I still have a lot to do until then, so…please watch over me…and Damcyan…just a little while longer._

* * *

Fade to Black

 _Eblan_

"Your Young Highness!" Seneschal bellowed, storming his way into the throne room. The two guards lazing about jolted upward, both snapping their eyes and attention to their impromptu visitor, who hadn't seemed to even notice them. After a few moments of running laps around the room, Seneschal finally paused in front of the throne, huffing for breath.

"OK, I give up. Where _is_ His Young Highness?"

"He left just a moment ago, sir," the first guardsman said, and Seneschal threw his hands in the air.

"What? Again!? Where? And WHY didn't you say something instead of watching me run around like an idiot?"

"You didn't ask," the guardsman smirked. "And I'm afraid he didn't say where he was going, sir. He simply stated he was going out on patrol and declined an escort."

"What was that!?" Seneschal sighed. "Oh, just when we've almost completed the plans for the first phase of renovating the castle... I fear His Young Highness has fallen into his habit of slipping off unannounced once more!"

"Fallen into?" the second guard questioned as Seneschal bolted back outside. "He never stopped, right?" The other guard shrugged, the door slamming behind the Seneschal so loudly that the paintings of King Edge's late parents rattled on the walls.

* * *

Edge paused on the steps of Eblan Castle, shoving his hands in his pockets as he whirled around and faced the ramparts above the entryway expectantly. Four shadows leapt down before him in greeting, each one landing at his feet in an elegant kneeling bow.

"Master..." Gekkou raised his eyes. All's clear in Fabul."

"Nothing seems out of order in the Underworld, either," Zangetsu smiled.

"Troia's crystal is the same as always," Izayoi giggled. "But I've got some juicy gossip about the Epopts!"

Tsukinowa was the first to stand, although at his diminutive height, he still only as tall as the others while they were kneeling. "Nothing unusual to repot from Mysidia, either!" He turned to Izayoi, giving her arm a pinch. "Wonder if your gossip has anything to do with a reunion I saw while I was visiting Mysidia?"

"Oh, I'd bet the farm on it," Izayoi winked. "If there is one thing I know best, it's the hearts of men…and women!"

Edge's ears perked up – Izayoi always did get the best dirt – but that would have to wait for later. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Good work, everyone. And with that…you've completed your final mission from the war effort. You are free to go...effective immediately, I am disbanding the Eblan Four. Go and live the life you've wished for – that's my last order."

Gekkou tilted his head. He had figured something like this would be coming, but he didn't expect Edge to be so blunt and swift about it – he had thought they at least had a few weeks of Edge pretending to be too busy to deal with them before the death knell rang out. Luckily, the four of them had discussed such a possible scenario on the Lunar Whale while Edge had been gallivanting with the Creator, and were well-prepared with a response.

"Then we will continue to serve as your shadows, Master," Gekkou shrugged.

"We'll need to come up with a new name if we can no longer go by the Eblan Four," Zangetsu said thoughtfully, stroking his goatee. "But we'll work on refining that until you next orders come!" The others agreed with him, nodding eagerly.

"You've got to be kidding me," Edge groaned. "I just handed you a get out of jail free card, and your first choice is really to stay here, serving me? Even after all the…er…bull spit, I've put you through?" When no one answered, he spun around to Tsukinowa, pointing a finger accusingly. "You…you haven't finished your magic studies in Mysidia yet! How are you going to manage that if you're leading a double-life? And more importantly…how are you going to get Porom to ever go on a date with you if you're all the way over here?"

"I can study and be a ninja at the same time!" Tsukinowa pouted. "It may mean I'm slow to master magic, but lots of people came into their powers later into their lives – look at King Cecil and Kain Highwind! Besides, I can't ask Porom on a date until I am truly worthy of her! I've got a long way to go before I can even think of such a feat."

"Does the concept of quality over quantity mean anything to you, Master?" Izayoi tittered. "Tsukinowa's got the right idea."

"What are you implying!?" Edge barked, and then quickly shook his head. "Never mind…don't answer that. What about you, Izayoi? Don't you think it's time to settle down and catch yourself a man?"

"…EXCUSE ME!?" Izayoi hissed, lunging for Edge's throat. He fell back, gagging against the twisted folds of his cloak as the others watched on without mercy, not bothering to intervene.

"Sorry…sorry!" Edge choked. "…Should I have said 'catch yourself a woman' instead? It was wrong for me to assume…"

"IDIOT!" she screamed. "Why do you never learn to keep that big mouth shut? It's as simple as this: Whenever you are imperiled, just call for us. We will be there." She tossed him back on the ground, watching with satisfaction as he clawed at the cloak tangled all over his head.

"We are Eblan's ninja guard, and we will be that way forevermore!" Tsukinowa leapt into the air, executing a perfect backflip to a smattering of applause from the others. "Don't worry about us cramping your style, Master – I have a feeling you won't be spending much time around here anyway based on how much you've been reportedly sneaking away. We'll watch Eblan in your place."

"Out of the mouths of babes," Zangetsu chuckled, and Edge finally managed to unwrap his cloak, tossing it over his shoulders in a huff and turning away, throwing a dismissive hand in the air as he jumped down the steps.

"Pfft. Whatever, people."

"Yes, Master!" Gekkou waved to Edge's retreating backside.

"Thank you for your kind words!" Izayoi smirked.

Zangetsu bowed, cringing as a loud snap reverberated from his knees that made the rest of the Eblan Four jump in place. "I bid you farewell..."

"Until the next mission!" Tsukinowa called, and Izayoi pulled him to her side, kissing the top of his hair with a loud "smack" that made Gekkou and Zangetsu cackle behind their hands.

"Ack! What was that for?" Tsukinowa blushed, squirming against her iron-clad grip.

"Nothing, you little brat – sometimes you just gotta show someone how much you love them. I have a feeling you're not going to be my pocket-sized baby cousin for much longer…I'm want to enjoy every last moment I have before you inevitably turn into a miniature Edge."

"Jeeze," Tsukinowa laughed, shoving her away and shaking his head. "Would that really be such a terrible thing, to grow up in the image of one of the greatest kings Eblan has ever had?" Gekkou, Zangetsu and Izayoi turned to each other, their eyes flashing dangerously.

"YES!"

* * *

Once You Meet Her

 _Mist_

"Cuore!" the little girl waved excitedly as she bolted out of her house, cutting across the lane to Rydia's postage-stamp sized yard. She leapt into the air, snatching two low-hanging apples from the tree that was practically weeping with fruit, and skidded to a stop before the turquoise-haired child frozen in the middle of a dirt patch that was to be the future site of a brand-new garden. The child stared at the outstretched offering from the other girl, her luminous amber eyes glimmering with confusion.

"What?"

"Don't say 'What!'" the little girl sighed, shoving the apple closer. "You're supposed to say 'Yes?' Or maybe even 'Hello!', whenever someone calls your name."

Cuore blinked, finally taking hold of the apple and turning it over in her hands. "Yes?"

"Right, right," the girl beamed, plopping down next to her and taking a huge bite, a spray of juices exploding down her chin. "Mmmm! Doesn't that sound better?"

Cuore hesitated, raising the apple to her lips as the little girl's brother spotted the two of them from across the street, where he had just finished shopping for supplies to make lunch. He sauntered over, giving them a wave as he shifted his groceries to one arm, and Cuore raised her hand slowly, mumbling against the flesh of the apple.

"H-Hello…"

Suddenly, a fierce gust of wind shot out behind the boy, nearly knocking him over and sending the shutters into a frenzied clatter on the front of Rydia's house. The little girl and Cuore both stared up in wonder as two towering figures stepped out of a slit of light that had torn itself open in the atmosphere over the lane – an elderly man buried under what seemed like hundreds of shabby robes and a striking, statuesque woman that looked as if she could cut glass with her exquisite jawline. The boy whirled around, his groceries crashing to the ground as he fell back in shock.

"AH!"

"Y-You!" the little girl gasped. The man and woman shared a bemused look as Cuore shook her head, snapping out of her trance and jumping up to bang on the window behind her.

 _"Rydia!"_

A few moments later, the front door to the house flew open, and Rydia emerged, her hair wild and her hands and chest covered in a fine film of flour.

"What is it? If you children really want this cake, you can't keep interrupting…" she trailed off as she took in the two new figures, her jaw dropping to the ground.

"It's been quite a while," the old man chuckled. "I guess up here, I'm more recognizable as my other self, huh? I just thought this form would be _less_ scary to children."

"Your Majesty!" Rydia balked. "And the Queen!"

"Mist is certainly a fine place, is it not?" Asura cooed, taking a long look around. "Quaint – a lot less magma, too. I'm starting to understand why Kasumi liked it here so much."

Rydia shook her head in disbelief, wiping her dusty hands on her thighs and throwing her arms around Asura, who hugged her back tightly. "I'm glad to see you both in good spirits…but what brings you here so suddenly?"

Leviathan shrugged. "Well, we just realized...if you are not able to visit us, then the least we could do was visit you." He eyed Cuore, a twinkle rising in his eye. "I see now why you've been so busy!"

"Who're they?" Cuore asked, tugging on Rydia's sleeve. Rydia pulled away from Asura's embrace, taking Cuore's hand and pulling her closer.

"They…well, they're my parents, of course! Say hello to them, please."

Cuore flushed and peered down at the ground as she mumbled into her chest. "Good...afternoon."

"Hello there!" Leviathan beamed, kneeling down to her height and clasping her other hand in his. "Nice to meet you!

Asura tilted her head, ropes of jewels hanging from her ears clinking together. "She looks quite a bit like you when you were a child, Rydia. I feel as if I've stepped back in time!"

"I hear that a lot," Rydia giggled. As they talked, Cuore's gaze snapped to attention over Leviathan's shoulder, where she spotted a silver-haired figure ensnared in a ruby cloak skulking around the corner of the inn across the way. Her face suddenly exploded into a grin, and she ducked away from Leviathan, waving her arms wildly as she bolted across the street.

"Edge!" she howled, and Edge froze in place, his eyes widening as Cuore took a flying leap and threw herself at him. He dove forward, catching her in his arms before she could smash face-first into the pavement, leaving the safety of the draping shadows of the alley and exposing himself in all his glory in the golden spill of sunlight that had blessed the valley that perfect summer day.

"Uh...hey, Cuore!" Edge stammered, and she snuggled into his chest, raising her eyes.

"You're late!"

"Sorry, sorry. Kind of hard to find free time when you've got a country to run." He gently set her down, looking up sheepishly at Rydia, who was hurriedly trying to brush the rest of the flour off her chest and already blossoming a deep shade of red.

"Ah, Master Edge," Leviathan chuckled. "Nice of you to join us as well."

"He's the one who suggested we pay you a visit, Rydia," Asura smiled, and Rydia pressed her lips together, the hammering of her heart reverberating in her ears as a tingly warmth seeped throughout her chest.

 _Ka-thump…ka-thump…ka-thump…_

"We're gonna play all day today!" Cuore exclaimed, grabbing Edge's hand and dragging him over to the others.

"Sure, sure," Edge laughed, shaking his head. "No magic, though, okay?

"Okay! …Magic later?

"… _Maybe_."

"Cuore's a different girl when she's around Edge, huh?" the little girl blinked, and Rydia nodded, giving up on trying to tidy herself from her disastrous attempt at baking and letting her hands fall to her sides. Her lips tugged into a slight smile as she watched Edge and Cuore make their approach, the ninja purposely stunting his usual wide, cocky gait to keep pace with Cuore's delicate footfalls. Their eyes met across the lane, and before she could stop herself, Rydia slightly lifted her head toward the roof, arching one slender brow. Edge gave a discreet nod, his eyes shining, the same word threatening to tumble from both of their lips.

 _Tonight…_

Rydia hurriedly turned back to Asura before anyone could notice their secret exchange, jerking her thumb back toward the open doorway of her house.

"While you are here…do you know how to make a cake? Cuore asked me to bake one…I don't even know how that girl found out there was such a thing as cake…but I've now realized I'm totally over my head."

Asura puckered her perfectly-painted lips. "Rydia, you're asking the Queen of the Feymarch, the hallowed daughter of the All-Father Bahamut, _to help you make a cake_?"

"Um…yes," Rydia pouted. "You promised you would come to my aid whenever I should have need…and right now, I really need to make a cake, or else Cuore is going to think I'm a liar."

"Well, luckily for you, I am as divine in the kitchen as I am in the battlefield," Asura sniffed, pushing past Rydia and stomping inside. "Let's see what I have to work with in this…cozy establishment."

Rydia sighed in relief, following after Asura as Leviathan sent an explosion of bubble magic across the yard, the kids all laughing and cheering as they started to give chase in a contest to see who could pop the most. Edge scooped Cuore up and plopped her onto his shoulders so that she had a height advantage, the maenad screaming with delight as he clutched her legs and barreled forward. Rydia took one last glance over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her, her throat clenching on a happy sob.

 _Edge... Thank you!_

* * *

A World Unwaking

 _Baron – Sometime later_

"Ready, Ceodore?"

Cecil withdrew his sword, a rush of wind blasting through the courtyard that blew his hair and his cape into a frenzy behind him, making him suddenly seem five feet taller. Ceodore swallowed his trepidation, holding Excalibur in front of him and mentally willing his knees to cease with their shaking.

"No training wheels this time, I hope," he choked, and Cecil gave him a half-smile, raising the Lightbringer. An errant beam of sunlight reflected off the blade, bouncing into Ceodore's eyes and causing them to water. At least, Ceodore was pretty sure it was the sun causing that…

"Of course not."

"Haaah!" Ceodore suddenly cried, diving forward and bringing his blade down upon Cecil's in a dizzying flash of light. Cecil fell back, parrying the blow and feinting left before thrusting forward to meet Ceodore's assault head-on.

"Ngggh! Not bad, son!"

Rosa watched bemusedly from the sidelines, her arms wrapped around herself as Kain joined her, dragging his wrist over his sweaty forehead.

"How long have they been going at it?"

"Only just started."

"I can't have Cecil wearing the boy out on me," Kain shook his head, marching toward the battlefield and holding up his hand, shouting over the clamor. "That's enough."

Cecil immediately lowered his blade, laughing as he waved to Kain with one hand and handily blocking Ceodore's final attack with the other. Ceodore bounced backward, his sword clattering to the ground as he landed flat on his rear.

"Ow…" he muttered, rubbing his lower back as he looked up at the interloper. His grimace of pain immediately transformed into a delighted grin as he leapt to his feet, grabbing Excalibur and sheathing it promptly. "Kain! You're home! Where have you been?"

"Tying up some loose ends," Kain said, raising an eyebrow. "But you should know that I'm your squad captain, starting today – and I'll be expecting you to act like it."

Ceodore flushed, immediately straightening himself and firing off a salute. "Oh! Y-yes, Captain! Welcome home!"

"I'll be counting on you, Kain," Cecil smiled. "I can't imagine the new Red Wings being in better hands."

"Um, but please try not to be too rough on him," Rosa added from behind, her eyes glimmering with a thin sheen of tears. "Oh my gods…I can't believe it…your first mission is already here…!"

"That depends on what Ceodore wants," Kain smirked, crossing his arms across his chest, and Ceodore stuck his chest and chin out as far as he could manage without toppling over, shaking his head.

"I...I'll be just fine, Captain! Leave everything to me!"

"Very well – then I'll need less yapping, and more getting your arse on the Enterprise – everyone's waiting to go."

"Yes, sir!" Ceodore cried, frantically turning toward Cecil and Rosa as Kain made his exit. Rosa raised her hand, smiling through her tears as she leaned into Cecil's shoulder.

"We'll see you soon, darling – do everything Kain asks of you."

"It will go fast," Cecil added. "Cid will keep Kain in line if he gets to be too much!"

"I'll be OK," Ceodore smiled, raising his hand as he started to jog backwards – he could practically feel Kain's glare on him all the way from the shipyard. "I…um…lo…"

"We love you, too!" Rosa exclaimed. Ceodore nodded, blushing, and finally turned on his heel to chase after Kain. When the two of them had disappeared out of sight, Rosa peered up beyond the castle walls, her hand shielding her eyes. The moon was hanging in the morning sky like a pearl draped across a stretch of azureous linen, with not a single cloud in sight.

"It's already another full moon," Rosa murmured. "Time has passed so quickly." Cecil followed her gaze, sliding his arm around her waist and resting his hand protectively over her abdomen as he pressed his lips to her temple. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into his embrace. "I wonder how he's doing these days..."

Cecil mumbled against her hair, his stare still trained on the moon. "Golbez?"

"Yes..."

* * *

 _Mount Ordeals, a few days prior_

Cecil, Ceodore, Rosa, Kain and Golbez stood in a semi-circle around Kluya's shrine, the mountain air heavy with their collective contemplation as the sun began its decent into the western horizon. Golbez lifted his head, letting out a low sigh as he reluctantly trailed his fingers over the cold, chipped marble. Part of him had expected it to burn to the touch as his bloodstained hands dared to desecrate the sacred stone, but absolutely nothing happened other than a chill running up his spine.

 _So, this is where you've been watching over us since you left this world, Father... I wonder how it was that your soul found this place after you were put to rest? Did your Lunarian intuition know what tragedies were to someday ensnare your family and your people? Alas…that may be a question not even the crystals are able to ever answer…_

 _But I'm thankful Cecil was willing to share this place with me before…I…I…_

"Are you _sure_ you want to go?" Cecil interrupted, and Golbez looked up at his little brother, his mouth twitching from being startled.

"I am."

Rosa drew her cape tighter around her shoulders, shivering. "You really do think Fusoya is still alive?"

Golbez didn't say anything, merely pressing his lips together. Kain lowered his head as a piercing gale swept through the summit, blowing his hair back from his face. He suddenly wondered how he had possibly managed to spend seventeen years in such a lonely, desolate place without going totally insane – coming back here with Cecil and Rosa by his side only reaffirmed that he never wanted to willingly be without either of them again.

 _Maybe Cecil's father was watching over me this entire time, as well…_

"Would anyone on that moon still be in one piece, for that matter?" Kain murmured. But Golbez caught wind of his mutterings and shook his head.

"I couldn't possibly know. That is why I must go there at once." He opened his clenched fingers, revealing the sliver of the ninth crystal he had rescued from the Creator before they had made their escape. "But I…I choose to believe Fusoya is somewhere out there, waiting for me – that all the Lunarians are waiting…to be awoken from the Creator's endless nightmare. And if I won't be the one to wake them…who will?"

"Golbez..." Cecil trailed off. "We can…"

But Golbez held up his hand, shaking his head. "Cecil…we've discussed this. This is farewell…at least for now. You are needed here. Me? Not so much."

"…Right," Cecil nodded, swallowing his tears as he extended his hand. Golbez took hold, and they shook on their unspoken promise to someday find each other again. As Golbez stepped away, opening a crackling portal of darkness behind him with the flick of his palm, Ceodore suddenly rushed forward, throwing his arms around Golbez's waist. Cecil and Rosa had finally told him everything after much begging – how Zemus had used Golbez's vulnerable Lunarian blood as a child to raze the Blue Planet, and how he, through Golbez, had used that same power to turn their dearest Kain against them, too.

"It took me a long time to understood how I felt about it all," Cecil had explained, his eyes darkened pools even in the spill of the waxing moonlight on the veranda they had hidden themselves away in for the discussion. "In my heart of hearts, I knew none of what happened was either Golbez or Kain's faults – they had not willingly made the choices they did. But then why did I find it so much easier to forgive Kain than to forgive my own brother – my very own blood?"

"…Did you ever find out why?" Ceodore had asked quietly, and Cecil clasped his head with his hands, taking a long, shaking breath.

"It was easier…easier to accept that everything that had happened to Kain had been just a series of unfortunate events, a run of bad luck. Either one of us could have been the one Golbez found in the rubble of the Misty Valley that day…it was the toss of a coin, as fate so often is, and Kain was on the losing side. But with Golbez…" Cecil pushed his fingers through his hair. "It felt like everything tied back to me. Our mother – your grandmother, Cecilia – died giving birth to me. If I hadn't made us orphans, would Golbez have succumbed to Zemus's darkness, or would have Cecilia been able to save him? It was a question that tortured me for many years – and one that I knew I would never gain the answer to, because I could not turn back time." He shook his head, resting his hands on Ceodore's shoulders and squeezing tightly. "The last time I saw Golbez – before he went to sleep on the Red Moon – he told me that I had our mother's eyes. And to know that was what he saw every time he looked at me… The hatred I had once held for my brother, I turned upon myself…It was no wonder the maenad was able to revive my past-self using the darkness that even a paladin's light could not vanquish."

 _Then I will be the one to stop the tragedies of our family's past from repeating ever again,_ Ceodore thought, clinging tighter to Golbez and silently daring him to pull away. _Just like the crystals and all living things on our planet…our hearts must too evolve if we are to inherit the future we've fought so dearly for!_

Golbez stared down at the boy, bewildered, and Ceodore met his gaze, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. "May we meet again, Uncle Golbez!"

"Ceodore..." Cecil reached for his son, but Ceodore let go of Golbez on his own, taking a step back and wiping his eyes.

"Someday, somewhere. That's all I'm asking."

The hardened glare of Golbez's eyes crumbled as he broke out into a pained, yet glowing smile, turning toward the portal and glancing over his shoulder one last time before raising his hand. "Ceodore... Thank you."

And before another word could be said, or another breath taken – he was gone, swallowed by the collapsing fold of magic before them. A beam of light launched into the sky, shooting across the western horizon where the Lunar Whale had descended to their planet for what would be the final time.

* * *

 _Current Day_

Luca waved to Ceodore as he climbed aboard the Enterprise, and he gave her a shy wave back, his eyes glued on the back of Kain's head the entire time, lest he suddenly turn around and catch Ceodore screwing around. Luca giggled behind her hand, motioning to Ceodore that they would catch up later, and turned back the extensive pile of blueprints spread open in front of her, scratching her head.

"Master Cid…do you really think this is in the Red Wings' best interests? Not upgrading our airships one bit?"

"We have a royal decree, Luca," Cid smiled. "We are to disarm our airships and never rearm them again. Cecil specifically asked for your assistance to make sure we got everything just perfect."

Luca shook her head, shrugging. "It seems like such a waste...but that certainly sounds like a rule that Cecil would come up with. And if that's what he wants, I'll certainly do whatever it takes to make it happen."

"Just remember we have to keep the ships running as we make the upgrades," Cid winked, and turned to Kain, who had approached the two of them with a small smile. He had been secretly thrilled that Cecil wanted Cid to join them on the inaugural voyage of their new mission as the head engineer that would not only keep their fleet in shape in the time they were gone but would also be providing mechanical assistance to the other nations they would visit along the way. With as much as Kain had missed Cecil and Rosa, there had been so much he still needed to catch up about with Cid, as well – the man had practically been a second father to him, after all.

"We're ready to go whenever you are, Captain!" Cid grinned, and Kain nodded.

"Good. Please prepare the crew for takeoff."

"Aye-aye!"

"Our destination, Captain?" Ceodore asked, and Kain turned to him, resting his hand on his hip.

"Ah, Cecil didn't tell you yet? All around the world. We're off on a reconstruction support mission to every nation in the land. There's a lot of damage to undo thanks to the True Moon and Baron – and Cecil wants to make sure Baron is, in turn, part of every forth going recovery effort."

"R-really, Captain!?" Ceodore exclaimed. _Whoa…Father is trusting a critical mission like this to someone like me…? And all around the world, too…that might mean we'll stop at Fabul – maybe in time for Ursula's birthday…?_ He felt a blush crawl up his cheeks. _Wonder if she'll still be wearing the headband…_

Kain smirked, shaking his head when he saw the goofy look that took over Ceodore's face. "Does this look like a pleasure cruise to you, Ceodore!? Did Biggs and Wedge teach you nothing!?"

Ceodore jumped out of his burgeoning fantasies, raising his hands. "Ah…I...I'm sorry, sir!"

Luca cleared her throat in an effort to rescue Ceodore, and Kain spun around to face her. "Where are we headed first?"

"Damcyan. Edward's procured some building material for us."

"Roger!" Luca nodded, bundling up the blueprints and sauntering off to assist Cid with takeoff. Kain turned his attentions back to Ceodore and couldn't help but crack a smile when he saw the excitement that was still alit in the boy's eyes.

 _Cecil…thank you for trusting me with your most precious treasure…yet again._

"Off we go, Ceodore!" Kain winked to show there were no hard feelings, and Ceodore raised a salute, pressing his ankles together.

"Yes, Captain!"

It was the fifteenth day of his fifteenth summer, and Ceodore Harvey had never been more convinced that he was very blessed indeed.

 _The End_

* * *

 _Author's Note:_ Thank you to all my faithful readers who stuck around to see how FFIV ended! (According to Square, at least - I am being honest if I say much of it would not have happened this way if I had written the original scenario!) Special thanks to G for being my #1 fan, Sarah for writing reviews that make me simultaneously blush and gasp at her excitement, FlynnDrake for kind and encouraging PMs, and lots more!

Please send me a PM or leave a review on what you would like to see next - I have a few ideas rolling around in my head to kick off summer with a bang, but would love to hear what others are thinking.

Finally, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my very own _Harley_ , my beautiful guinea pig who crossed the rainbow bridge unexpectedly Thursday night - coincidentally the same night I finished Harley and Edward's epilogue (but there are no coincidences in this world, are there...?). I hope you are having fun on the moon with Ibuki - I will always think of you when I think of FFIV. Rest well, sweet baby.

-CC, 4.21.18


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